#Hvitserk Fanfiction

[undiscovered-horizon]

"She is not a bird" - Hvitserk x Reader

SUMMARY: In Eddas, every great warrior falls in love with a Valkyrie - a winged goddess equally beautiful and imposing. Hvitserk finds his after a battle as she's stitching wounds and bringing comfort to those who will not see another dawn.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2k

In a colourful dress, she busses around, Time and time she turns her head, gives a smile, You could swear you saw her wings yesterday, How she hid them under the dress, But she’s not a bird, Can’t you see? She is not a bird.

Hvitserk has no interest in medicine or healing. Despite that, he has found himself watching one of the healers as she’s running back and forth between beds. She’s been at it for hours now and Hvitserk begins to wonder how come she’s not tired yet. Her feet and hands are equally quick as they had been when they arrived at the camp after the battle. The mesmerising glint in her eyes, something between curiosity and adoration, is still just as bright. Whenever one of the wounded warriors wants to talk to her, she sits at the edge of their bed. Her head nods gently before her lips curl into a reassuring smile and she says something in return. Maybe she’ll even chuckle at something. From where he’s standing, Hvitserk can’t make out her words but he can quite clearly see the faces of the people she’s talking to and it makes his curiosity consume him entirely to know what words turn agony into peace.

Lost in his own thoughts, the young Viking doesn’t notice jarl Friedgeir approaching him. 

“Enchanting, isn’t she?” he asks with a smirk. He’s seen this scenario one too many times to have any doubts about what Hvitserk is thinking about. Friedgeir himself has been in that very same position before.

Friedgeir Esrason is nimble for his age. White and silver hair circles his tired face like a halo. Sun-damaged skin makes him appear even older, although fuller of life. It’s a testimony of long days spent on adventures, seeing what the world has to offer. Despite nearing grandfather’s age, his torso is broad and his arms are about the size of a shieldmaiden’s thigh. Brass bracelets clink every time he moves his hands. The purple material of his tunic is clearly worn out, tearing in places of the most friction.

“She is,” Hvitserk admits.

Jarl puts his heavy hand on Hvitserk’s shoulder. For a moment, the young warrior wonders if Friedgeir could actually crush his bones should he squeeze his fingers a little tighter. 

“Can I entrust a secret to you, son of Ragnar?” Friedgeir asks in a low tone. His grey eyes look around the two of them as though expecting to find a prying set of ears. Everyone besides them appeared too preoccupied with their own duties and worries to care about the gossip shared between the Jarl and the famous Lothbrok boy.

Hvitserk looks at the older man with a frown.

“My brothers and I have risked our lives for your cause, Jarl Friedgeir,” he reminds the ruler. “I have no interest in breaking your trust. You know that already.”

“Good.” Friedgeir pats Hvitserk’s shoulder. He must be unaware of his strength as the gentle slaps are actually quite forceful, making Hvitserk answer his own question about crushing bones. Friedgeir can definitely turn someone’s skeleton into dust with a squeeze. “My wife mustn’t ever hear what I’m about to tell you. That girl…” he makes a pause and points his finger at the healer, “I think she might be a bird.”

Taken aback, Hvitserk looks up and down the Jarl.

“Did the Swedes hit you on the head?” he asks half-heartedly.

“I wish it was that. But no.” Friedgeir laughs bitterly and shakes his head. A shadow of melancholy flies past his sun-damaged face only to reside inside his silver eyes as a teary glint. “I always knew there was something strange about her but I came to understanding only after seeing the great viziers of the East and their pets locked in golden cages.”

Hvitserk glances towards the healer. His eyes follow her like hawk in hopes of some enlightenment that would make Friedgeir’s words clearer to him. Alas, she appears as she did before - enticing and human.

He shakes his head.

“I don’t understand.”

The Jarl lets out a sigh.

“Just look, dear Hvitserk. See the colourful dress like a parrot’s feathers.” Hvitserk has never heard of something called a parrot, so he is left to assume that they must look nothing like the birds in Norway. “And look at men’s faces when she talks to them. Pain and suffering change into hope and peace. The only time I’ve seen that was when one of the viziers asked his angry guests to listen to his oriole singing. After an hour, no one remembered what they were fighting about.”

Time as if slows down as Hvitserk is watching the healer sit on the edge of a cot belonging to a dying man. She holds his hand tightly and tirelessly wipes cold sweat from his forehead. The warrior is stuttering, fever and pain making his wants incomprehensible. The woman sitting beside him only nods her head, offering a warm smile and a short response. Soon, the man falls limp. His eyes turn blank as his head rolls lifelessly to the side. The healer squeezes the corpse’s hand and only then gets up to continue her work. A pair of healthy warriors wrap up the body in blankets only to carry it away, to the place where a great pyre will burn after nightfall.

Hvitserk is more intelligent than the jarl. More perceptive. He’s seen geese flying southwards when winter was coming, only to come back after snow thaws. But not her - she stayed until the warriors’ skin turned cold and grey. Let go of dead hands only after the heart stopped, never earlier.

“She’s not a bird,” the young Lothbrok speaks up. Friedgeir looks at him curiously. “Can’t you see?” he asks with a chuckle on his tongue. “She must be a Valkyrie, leading fallen warriors to the gates of Odin's hall.”

The Jarl only nods slowly, pondering Hvitserk’s words. 

“If she is, perhaps death isn’t a too high price to be by her side.”

But he’s too young to be this patient and Hvitserk has to find a reason to be beside her now.

You’re taken aback when someone suddenly takes the wooden crate from your hands. The unexpected helper reveals himself to be none other but Hvitserk with a playful grin on his face. Despite giving all he could in the battle, just hours prior, he appears to still be vigorous as though the fight was a mere warm-up.

The man puts the heavy crate on his shoulder, securing it with one arm. What has given you backpain and cold sweat, seems like no chore to him. The Ragnarsons really are a different strain.

“Where do you want this?” he asks casually.

“At the pyre.” You point in the vague direction of where the bodies will be burned. “Illness thrives within the old, used dressings.”

Hvitserk begins wandering to the place you have pointed out and, not sure why, you begin to follow him. His strides are long and sure, his breathing calm and steady. He hardly fits the image of a man who had to fight like a rabid dog to survive just earlier that day.

“Are you not tired afer the battle?” you ask him. Confusion slips past your words.

“I am.” Hvitserk glances at you. It’s a quick look but you manage to notice him staring you up and down. “But I thought you might need help. You’ve been tending to the wounded for hours.”

A melodic, light chuckle escapes your lips.

“You’ve been watching me?”

His playful half-grin turns into a genuine smile. Staring at the road ahead, he almost looks bashful.

“I have a habit of admiring enticing things,” Hvitserks admits.

You feel your cheeks burning at the nonchalant compliment but you don’t let him notice that. Neither do you let his sweet words distract you.

“Then you must lead a busy, beautiful life.”

The man’s voice seems faraway and absent as he answers, as though his mind is suddenly occupied with vivid daydreams:

“Not yet.”

The noise of the camp is inaudible now. Only pine trees and wild berries accompany Hvitserk and you. A murder of crows suddenly takes flight as you pass by. Their cawing echoes through the empty forest.

You can’t quite put a finger on this sensation but something about Hvitserk makes you feel warm and calm inside. It’s the same feeling one experiences when sitting in front of a warm hearth after spending long hours in the cold. When the blood begins flowing again and the relief of not freezing to death is forgotten, the warmth and safety make one sleepy and giddy. But how can a man make you feel the same as a fireplace on a cold night?

Hvitserk sets the crate down with a low thud. The sound shakes you awake from your thoughts. A strong, putrid smell of blood, fresh wood and animal fat fills your nostrils. Even after all those years, it never gets easier to prepare people for their final journey.

“Thank you,” you begin awkwardly. Some more anxious part of you is suddenly terrified that he will somehow learn of your thoughts about him. “I don’t know if I could have carried it by myself all the way here.”

His lips curve into a sly grin and you can tell he’s about to weave a string of charming words but something about him distracts you instantly. Hvitserk’s shirt, once greyish-beige, is now brown and crimson. Not thinking much, you suddenly grab his arm. He doesn’t even get a chance to protest when you roll up his sleeve to reveal a, re-opened wound.

“Your hand is bleeding,” you state.

Hvitserk is unsure whether your stern gaze scares him or excites.

“It’s nothing.”

He tries to roll his sleeve back down but you swat his arm away. Pushing down on his shoulder, you force him to sit down on the ground with you.

“Well, it’s definitely going to scar,” you say quietly as you inspect the deep cut in his skin. “But the good news is, some women like men with scars. I know I do.”

You take out a sewing needle made from animal bone. For practicality, you’re used to wearing it pinned somewhere in your clothing. After all, one can never know when they might need it like when a handsome, charming Viking suddenly needs his wound stitched. Gods work in mysterious ways, truly…

A drop of blood drips from the wound each time you push the needle through the pale skin. Hvitserk is impressively collected - he only grunts a few times and clenches his teeth. 

“All done,” you whisper more to yourself than him. In a quick, mechanical manner you wipe the skin of his arm again and roll down the sleeve of his shirt. 

You’re standing up when Hvitserk decides he’s not quite done being the apple of your eye:

“How hurt does a man have to be for you to stay around longer?”

As though he didn’t just get stabbed eigh times in his cut and bruised arm, he’s staring at you with than same insufferable mischieviousness that you’ve grown to love so much. Sometimes you wonder whether this is exactly the reason he’s never had trouble charming women.

“A broken rib would do it,” you say with a shrug. “Or you could just ask.”

Suddenly, Hvitserk jumps to his feet. A newfound fire is burning inside him - a flame known only to those, whose affections are returned.

“Please?”

Jokingly, you frown at him.

“I didn’t know the Lothbroks knew such words,” you say in a surprised tone.

You feel his fingers dragging up your arm until his palm gently brushes against your cheek. The skin of his hand is dry and calloused, standing in a stark opposition to its owner.

“We hold it for special occasions.” Hvitserk’s voice is low, almost raspy.

“And me standing here is somehow special?”

“You don’t even know,” he whispers. His breath is hot against your cheeks. But how can a man make you feel the same as a fireplace on a cold night?

“Then tell me.”

At that moment, he knows he will have his entire life to remind you just how special you are to him; he will have his whole saga to love a Valkyrie.

[underscorewriting]

Hello !

How are you doing?

Could you make a one shot where your the ragnarsons little sister ( your 5 yrs old and ragnar and a witches daughter ) and they don't know you exist but you come with bjorn from a raid and you meet them andyou just capture everyones heart .

And you give hope to the people of kattegat because you are a powefull witch and they think you are a god

Maybe they find out your powers when you save someone from death with your powers?

Thank you!

Oh my god, I love that idea!! Sorry that it took me sooo long to write this, but here it is now!! ^^ I kinda changed it a bit, hopefully you don't mind too much!! :)

The lost daughter

Brother!Ragnarssons x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Sigurd being a dick, Angst?

Words: 2.414 (think this one's my longest story!!)

Emotions were all she ever knew. Bad ones, painful ones. She didn't understand why she felt them so intense, whenever something happened. People usually got hurt very badly if she got upset. A little girl that could kill people in the most torturous way possible, without even having to move a single finger or having the thought in mind.

The town she lived in always said that her "witch" of a mother was the reason behind this cursed child. They tried hurting her but she ran, she ran straight into a group of men. No not just men, women were there too. Women she couldn't help but stare at. None of the people in her town looked like them.

Her town was called Wessex, rumors were that in the earlier years, vikings have already been there, even had a deal with the great king Ecgberht. But that was years ago, way before the little girl was even born.

The man in front of the group smirked slightly before he leaned down to her height. "Now who might you be? You wouldn't know where a witch named Meredith lives, would you?" The man studied her features, each one identical to her mothers, except the ocean blue eyes. A feature left from her father.

Taking a step back she tripped over her own leg only to be caught by the man in front of her. He wore his hair in a braid and his beard was longer than she ever saw anyone wear. His eyes didn't hold any danger in them, maybe curiosity, but nothing she had to be scared of. Calming her nerves slightly she stood up straight again.

"witch?" She tilted her head confused, not understanding what that word really meant, only hearing it when someone insulted her mother. Her eyebrows furrowed in anger. "My momma was no witch! She was a healer and helped lots of people!" Pushing away from him, she heard something snap behind the man.

A man holding his arm, which was twisted in a weird angle. The man was screaming in pain as his legs twisted as well, painfully bringing him to his death. It took the little girl some time to snap out of her emotions and look over to the man, only to gasp at the state of the man.

Covering her eyes quickly with her hands she turned away, a quiet sob escaping her. The other men gasped in fear, she had to be blessed by the gods they thought. "By the gods it is true!" The man with the braid laughed and pulled her into his chest. "You are coming home with us, little one. Bet you want to meet your family!" Peeking through her fingers she nervously chewed her lip. She wasn't sure if she could trust him, but her momma once told her a story about a man she could always trust if he ever came to her. A man named Ragnar Lothbrok.

The man, who was carrying her, didn't look exactly how her mother explained, but his icy blue eyes reminded her of him. "Are you Ragnar Lothbrok?" Her voice came out in a whisper as she held onto him. A laugh rumbled in his chest as he put her down on the boat. "I am his son, Björn Ironside. My father and I were often here in Wessex, he met a woman, a healer he used to tease by calling her a witch, they shared a bed and later on rumors spread, that she was with his child. You. I am your brother, we're going to Kattegat, our fathers home. Our home."

Confusion settled in the little girls chest, she didn't fully believe him, but somehow she thought she could trust him. The hope of having a family battling the fear of getting killed or worse.

They traveled for months on no end, the little witch started to enjoy the sea. She learned many things thanks to her brother. The gods became her favorite topic, next to her having four more brothers back at home. Giggling she ran over to Björn. "Brother! When will we arrive?" Excitement settled in her bones as she held onto his hand, looking up to him with wide eyes. Björn couldn't help but smile slightly at how excited she was. "We will arrive soon, look."

When she looked into the distant she saw land becoming bigger, they were close, just about to reach it. She was nervous, he had warned her about how different each brother is, but she was excited. Excited to see a family she longed for. Excited for a land that would also belong to her in some way.

As they arrived she was nervous, people looked at her weirdly, making her scared that she might hurt someone. Björn was walking in the front with her, three men waiting for them in a big hall. The girl had already heard a lot about them and could easily tell who each one of them was. But one wasn't here, she was disappointed.

The men looked at Björn confused. "Welcome home, brother. I see you did not return alone, who is that child?" Ubbe smiled slightly walking up to them. "She's our sister. Father laid with a woman from Wessex, she was a healer I got to know her a bit." The little girl started fidgeting with her hands, trying to release some of her stress. Ubbes eyes found hers, she could only see kindness in them.

A chuckle came from where the other two stood, the blonde man laughing at how ridicules this sounded. "Be serious, brother. You couldn't possibly believe something that stupid." Sigurd was being gruesome, looking at the child in disgust at how her clothes looked. She was no child of Ragnar for him. she didn't look like one either. Sneering he gave her one last glare as he walked away.

Biting her lip she looked to the ground, counting the seconds and minutes so she could calm down. A sigh came from the other three men. Hvitserk slowly made his way towards her kneeling down so he was her height. A smile forming on his face as he studied her eyes, the blue reminding him of his little brother. Even the white in her eyes was a little blue.

„Looks like Ironsides is telling the truth.“. A grin spread on Hvitserk face as he stood up straight. Soon there was a clicking sound to be heard. Ivar came into the great hall, wondering what all the noise is about, having only heard parts of it. „Gods would you just keep it down, Hvitserk.“

Fear settled in her stomach, she was terrified of meeting Ivar ever since Björn told her all the stories about him. When her eyes finally met his she couldn't help but flinch. His eyes matched hers the most. They were almost identical and a giddy smile formed on her face, before she could stop herself. With him it was the clearest that he was her brother. "I heard Sigurd whine about our brother having found some bastard child from father, that couldn't seriously be his..."

Ivar leaned down towards the little girl, tilting his head slightly, inspecting her, before grinning like a lunatic. "But as I see she looks more like a child of Ragnar than he does." Hvitserk laughed and Ubbe couldn't help but grin a little at Ivars statement. All of them were nervous for his reaction, since he was the hardest to please, but somehow her eyes made him realize it the quickest.

The little girl couldn't believe how easy they all accepted her and included her in everything. Everyone except Sigurd. He spread the rumors of her having some powers, but instead of making the people be disgusted of her they started admiring her, bringing her brothers gifts for her. Every person in Kattegat thought she was a god. How couldn't she be? A child of the great Ragnar Lothbrok, it was about time one of them had to become a god.

Even her brothers sometimes believed it, but they also soon learned that her power held a lot of danger. Ivar was the first to notice that her eyes, like his, told in what situation her powers would be. If they were blue in the whites, then it was dangerous for her to interact with a lot of people meaning, keeping her with Ubbe and Hvits would be the wisest decision. Of course they trusted Ivar with her, but most of the times Ivar himself was somewhat worried about upsetting her too much.

On her good days she would walk with her crippled brother through the market, helping him get things and later on hearing about all the adventures he went on. She wouldn't tell but she did like him the best, since he understood her the most. Ubbe was a close second. Björn left for another raid soon after he brought her to the others, which sandend her the most was that he didn't even say goodbye.

She loved her brothers very much, even Sigurd. Ivar was very protective of her when it came to him. He was never allowed too close to her or to be alone with her. It was rare that Ivar cared that much, but he knew how cruel Sigurd could be if he wanted to, and he didn't want her to go through the same things he himself went through.

During a feast late at night she sat with her brothers, giggling and laughing as Hvitserk told her the funniest stories and Torvi braiding her hair, she felt whole. Ivar was sitting in the throne looking over the people, seeing how they looked at his sister in fear, he liked that they feared her even if they thought she was a god, but he also knew how it upset her that they avoided her at all costs when she was close.

Sigurd hated everything about her actually being treated like all of his brothers, like an actual child of Ragnar even though Ragnar himself never even knew her. On this particular night he drank one too many cups of ale and his company wouldn't stop talking about how great her powers are and how she was the hope for the people in Kattegat. The hate he felt for Ivar was nothing compared to the hate he felt for her. It made him see red, he got up and walked straight up to her as she was wandering around the hall, looking at different things.

Ivar was watching her carefully, making sure nothing could happen. Sigurd grabbed her arm forcefully making her stop and turn towards him, a gasps escaped her. Looking up to him she gave him an excited smile. "Brother! Are you enjoying the feast? Ubbe said I may not try the ale yet because-" But he interrupted her by grabbing her face hard and squishing her cheeks together. "I am not your brother! Neither are they!" He pointed to were Ubbe and Hvitserk were laughing together. "Just because Ragnar laid with some bitch in Wessex doesn't make you anything to us! Oh and Ivar? He's playing his own games, he only keeps you around so that you can help him archive the power he wants!" A smirk was on Sigurds face as he watched how tears streamed down her cheeks and how her lip quivered.

Sadly for him he did not notice the blue of her eyes and how she was further away from the others, to calm her powers. One might think that the ax hitting him in the back was her, but people tend to forget how hotheaded Ivar the boneless was, now that he seemed calm compared to his sister. Ivar couldn't help it and threw the ax, hearing his brothers harsh and hurtful words, making him not realize what he was doing as his hand found the weapon.

Ivar didn't mean to kill his brother, panic spread in his chest as he quickly limped over to the two of them. The little girls eyes were wide and still filled with unshed tears as she did her best to keep Sigurd upright. Of course she was upset with him, but he was still her beloved brother, even if he didn't see himself that way.

The hall quieted down quickly. Hvitserk and Ubbe were quick to join their siblings helping the girl to carefully lay down their brother. Both shot daggers with their eyes at Ivar, who was slightly trembling, scared to have actually killed him. Ubbe tried to pull her away from Sigurd, not wanting her to see so much blood at such a young age, not caring about viking tradition at this point. This was her brother dying, she shouldn't see him like that.

But she had other plans. As if it was instinct, she pulled away from Ubbes hold and pulled the ax out of Sigurds abdomen. Her hands covering in blood as she pressed them onto the open wound applying as much pressure as she can before closing her eyes, saying a quiet prayer to the gods. Repeating the prayer over and over again in barely a whisper her eyes shot open, the blue now seeming like it glowed, making the men around her flinch slightly.

They all saw the wound healing. It healed quickly, way quicker than anything else and her eyes soon stopped glowing as the wound was completely gone and Sigurs eyes snapped open. The little girls eyes closed slowly as she released him from her grip and dropped exhausted to the ground, making Hvitserk quickly catched her head, before it hit the floor, picking her fully up. All of them were silent for a moment as they listened to Sigurds heavy breathing.

None of them could believe how blessed they were, having a sister as strong as her. It didn't matter to them if she was a god or a simple witch blessed by them. All that mattered to them was that she was safe and taken care of. She was so young with such great power. A power she needed help with, a power that they all had to tame with her. But it was alright, if that's what it takes for her to feel loved and needed.

The Ragnarssons could not hide the fact that their sister was the reason they all connected fully again. She truly was a blessing from the all father.

-

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! :)

[knight-of-flowerss]

she-bear : chapter one

navigation | warnings : inspector calls reference, nameday instead of birthday | a/n : hiii so I know this isn't really good but I'm very ill and can't think straight but I wanted to atleast get one chapter done! | wattpad | tags : @thethreeeyed-raven , @fangsp1der-2099 , @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom , @thelirofnorthlands , @naaladareia , @not-that-syndrigast

Even when I was a child all I ever saw was war, death and sorrow but even through all the sadness, there was a sort of beauty.

My grandmother always told me that if I couldn't find a beauty in something depressing then there was no point in living in this dog eat dog world.

My father always hated that I thought like that. I don't blame him though, he was jealous. He was jealous he couldn't have that childlike optimism as he faced death and savagery almost every day as he is a well known Lord and General. I'm glad he isn't like me though, being so high ranked in an large army, you need a hard head, not to be blessed with the spotlight of pink and intimate lighting.

My mother was a stern woman, if you had done something wrong, disobeyed her rules, basically anything she didn't like, you would be punished. She would spank you in front of a cross with Jesus Christ on it as you begged for his forgiveness and if you didn't beg good enough, she would leave bloody marks.

But that was only the part where you misbehaved, my mother loves us but she can lose her temper quickly which is why I'm thankful for my youngest sister, Greta.

Because of Greta's young age she is very impressionable, she is the apple of my mothers eye, she calms her down and convinces her to at least ease on the force of her punishment.

My grandfather, Bernhard, is one of the bravest men I have ever met. He was like my father, a general, it runs in our blood to be leaders of great army's, to make our mark in history. The reason why he is the bravest men I have ever met is because when he was young, on his 46th name day, he and my grandmother found out that he was sick, really sick. They advised him not to battle, to let someone else to take over. But my grandfather is too prideful for that, he would rather die and meet our saviour and creator early than sit by, not serve his country and die as a weak frail man.

He was told he wouldn't last to see his 48th name day but that was thirty two years ago and he is still holding on yet his health is rapidly declining, I fear he might go soon.

My older siblings are Valda, Stefan and Elsa. Valda and Stefan are twins, always arguing but always sharing secrets. Even though Stefan is a man and Valda is a woman, most the time it's like they've switched roles. Stefan is the brains and Valda is the brawn.

Elsa is a woman grown, the oldest. Many whisper about her and call her crazy, yet she is not. Elsa and her late husband where head in heels in love, getting married at a young age, Elsa being only 20 and her sweetheart being 22, sadly three years later, only 7 months ago, he got killed in battle, defending his fallen brethren against the pagans.

My family isn't the most perfect but we get by. We carry on our bloodline and make centuries of our ancestors proud, 'Es lebe Haus Godfrey, es lebe unsere Krieger, es lebe Deutschland'. [long live house Godfrey, long live our warriors, long live Germany.]

[ritual-unions]

Misunderstandings

Pairings: Hvitserk x OFC

Setting: modern day

Warnings: NSFW, vulgar language, mentions of oral sex

Word count: 1,800+

Summary: Sigurd brings a new American friend to hang out with his brother. She speaks little-to-no Norwegian and Hvitserk takes advantage of her lack of mastery of the language in the form of a bet.

Notes: as far as I’m concerned Hvitserk could talk a fish into flying, it’s that damn cheeky smile.

Hvitserk does not typically engage with the women Sigurd brings around. His little brother tends to hang out with the meek, quiet girls, who blend in nicely to the walls. This new one is different. She is almost too cool for his little brother. Hvitserk knows this the moment she walks into their group. He isn’t sure if it is her flouncy skirt or platform heels she adorns or the way she makes eye contact with each person she’s introduced to, but she is not the typical prototype for Sigurd. 

The football stadium is loud, louder than usual as this is the qualifying match for the finals. Hvitserk’s hopes are high, the team’s striker is the best in a long time, since before he was born, and longer still, to his father’s youth. He figures it is just as well that Ragnar is not there, not that his father had been around since Hvitserk was 10 years old. 

Hvitserk is convinced that his missing father might be the bad luck charm that had brought such a dark cloud over the national team all those years earlier. 

Hvitserk chews on the toothpick he swiped on the way out of the pub earlier that day, switches the beer in his hand from one to another, shaking the new girl’s hand, introducing himself briefly before turning his attention back to the game. Ubbe reaches across Hvitserk’s back offering his own hand and name, throwing in a smile and a comment about how it was always nice to meet his younger brother’s girlfriends. 

“I don’t think she’d fuck him.” Hvitserk can hear Ivar’s not so subtle comment from the other side of Ubbe. 

“Oh I’m not his girlfriend,” Saga blushes, turning to smile shyly at Sigurd. 

“Saga plays the keys with the band on Tuesdays.” Sigurd all but yells over the roaring crowd. Hvitserk half leaps out of his seat at the “almost” goal against his team. His team, his brothers hardly care which direction the final score lands. Ubbe knows most of the players and the coaches names and watches matches with him on the television but that is as far as his involvement goes. Sigurd and Ivar are only there to kill time on a Saturday afternoon, hoping to witness a fist fight but win or lose they will go home satisfied. Not for Hvitserk, his heart bleeds the team’s colors. Their success is his success. He can still remember, 7 years of age, the time Ragnar had taken him and Ubbe to their first home match. The crowd had been wild, thrumming with excitement. The chanting alone had left his ears ringing for hours to come. Most of all, he remembers the way Rangar had looked at him, eyes lighting up in elation as he watched his sons cheer. Hvitserk had caught his gaze by accident but the smile that pulled across his father’s face was a look he had not since forgotten. 

Today is just as loud as his first game. Hvitserk easily ignores the conversation flowing behind his back between Saga and Ubbe. She giggles, smiling at his older brother’s cheeky remarks about the smell of stale beer and how Hvitserk is sitting so awkwardly on the edge of his seat. 

“I made a bet that they will lose 2-1.” Hvitserk can barely hear Ivar over the man a row behind them who was shouting at the referee, but Hvitserk shoots his youngest brother a side-eyed glare. Ivar doesn’t seem to feel his piercing stare as he looks down at his phone, instead consumed with the bright glow of the home screen of the betting app he uses so often. 

Sigurd laughs, pulling out his own phone. “Make the same bet for me, I’ll send you money now.” 

Ubbe’s hand claps on to Hvitserk’s shoulder shaking his frame, as if to say - ignore them, a gesture that causes Hvitserk to roll his eyes. He is old enough to know when to ignore his brothers. 

Hvitserk glances at Saga who is enjoying the sight of two shirtless men painted red, arms clasped over one another’s shoulders as they sing loudly and off tune. 

The game is paused for an injured player but the crowd doesn’t not stop vibrating with excitement. 

“Why are you here?” Hvitserk asks, reaching over Saga’s head for the aluminum can of beer Sigurd has bought for him. Saga laughs at his bluntness. “I mean what brought you to the country?” 

Because you are so clearly not from here, Hvitserk wants to say but sips his beer instead. 

Saga takes the bottle of water offered to her by Sigurd and cracks open the lid. “Oh, my parents always wanted to live in one of the Scandinavian countries and my father got a job here this year so I followed along.” She shrugs her shoulders as if this is a completely normal thing to do, uproot your entire adult life to follow your parents across a vast ocean. 

“But you are - ” Hvitserk hesitates, not wanting to make an assumption. 

“American, and can only speak English and say a few words in Norwegian. I’m trying to learn more.” She bluntly states.

“I thought your ‘hello’ was good,” Sigurd offers as encouragement. Hvitserk can hear Ivar snickering into his drink. 

“We can teach you more.” Ubbe smiles at her before taking a sip of his beer. 

Hvitserk can not hear her reply as the game starts back up again and does not hear her voice again until half time. 

“I think they have a chance,” Saga says quietly as Sigurd and Ivar bicker over where they would go after the game and Ubbe has left for a piss. 

Hvitserk sits back in his seat, eyeing Saga as she casually crosses her legs, knit stockings slipping, showing off the warm skin beneath her skirt. 

“Haaland is their best chance,” Saga says, nodding at the striker warming up on the field. “But I don’t think they’ll win tonight.” 

“Why?” Hvitserk tries to not let the annoyance seep through his voice. 

“Intuition,” Saga shrugs her shoulders. “Call it a gut feeling.” 

The bitter laughter that rumbles out of Hvitserk’s belly is unwanted but he cannot help find his situation funny. Here he is, surrounded by doubters and naysayers. He is the team’s only hope. 

“Fine,” Hvitserk set his drink on the ground between his feet, rubbing his chilled fingers on his pants legs. “A bet then, my team is going to win.” 

“Okay, you’re on.” Saga reaches out her hand but before Hvitserk can clasp her hand in his own, she says, “what does the winner receive?” 

The teams are taking their positions on the field and the crowd roars with enthusiasm. Hvitserk shrugs, eyeing each player as they make their way across the grass. Saga smiles, leaning closer to his ear so he can hear. “I don’t know you well enough to know what I want from you.” 

Hvitserk laughs, that is a cop-out answer. He knows exactly what he wants if he wins. “You can have whatever.” 

“I’ll know what I want when I win.” Saga’s smile is a little too cheeky for someone he has only just met. 

“Fine.” Hvitserk waves his hand in dismissal, his team will win so he is not worried about the repercussions. He mutters briefly in Norwegian - “You can suck my dick.” 

Saga’s eyes are wide and searching for a moment. Hvitserk tugs at the lob of his ear worried that he has offended her, that she might actually understand more of his native tongue than she has let on. 

“Just want to help you learn,” he mumbles around the lip of his beer. There is a rush of emotions that pass over Saga’s face. A frown deepens between her brows, she tugs at the necklace sparkling at her collarbone, then she smiles nodding her head. 

“Yes,” she replies smiling mischievously as she eyes the game unfolding before her then back at Hvitserk. “Whatever you say, Hvitserk, but I am going to win.”

****

He has won, his team has won with no thanks given to his brothers or the new girl’s skepticism. 

He did not really mean what he said when he told Saga she had to give him a blow job if his team won but looking at her now, smiling lips wrapping around the narrow end of neck of the beer bottle in her hand, her wool stockings stopping right below the edge of her skirt, the pale skin of her thighs briefly peaking out with each swish of her hips, he can’t help but imagine what she might look like kneeled before him.  

The group have somehow made it back to the flat Sigurd calls home. His little brother has turned up the music obnoxiously loud for seemingly no reason. It is only the five of them in the living room, and Ivar looks annoyed enough to leave without saying goodbye to anyone. 

From across the room, Hvitserk cannot hear the words coming out of Saga’s mouth but he can tell by the reaction on Sigurd’s face that what she is saying to him is not good. 

Hvitserk’s arm wraps around Saga’s frame, pulling her away from Sigurd’s exclamations of anger before she can find out the exact meaning behind Hvitserk’s previous terms to their bet. 

She is saying something to him but he cannot hear her over the music or Sigurd’s shouting. Hvitserk waves his little brother away, pulling Saga to the corner until he can see her lips moving properly. 

He frowns, looking down at her. What is she saying? She repeats the phrase a little slower this time. The syllables thick on her tongue as though she’s had a Novocain shot in her mouth and can no longer speak correctly. He laughs, suddenly understanding, she is trying to speak Norwegian to him, though she is failing miserably. Whatever it is that she is trying to say, makes no sense to him.

He shakes his head, hiding his smile around the lip of his beer bottle, but she knows he is mocking her.

“Fine,” Saga says in English, nodding her head towards the hallway. “A bet is a bet.” 

Hvitserk laughter is throaty and he looks up at the ceiling as if in disbelief. He supposed Sigurd did get the chance to tell her his meaning. That he wanted her to suck his dick if his team won. His cock twitches slightly at the thought. He hopes she is not just messing around with him. 

He finds her gaze once again, staring at him so intently, a serious look on her face. He opens his mouth to reply but her fingers threads through his and he finds himself walking down the hallway with a girl he has only just met. 

[its-me-jessi]

I Wish I Were Her PT 6 - Finale

Pairing: Hvitserk X Reader

Summary: Y/N and Hvitserk finally find their way to each other.

Introduction Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

“Right now?!”, I furrowed my brow at him, “Weren't you about to go somewhere?”

“I still am.”, he kept grinning, “but now with you as my date – come on!”

He grabbed my hand and pulled me towards him. Multiple senses were suddenly working at full speed. I could hardly decide on which I should concentrate on most. The woody scent of his perfume filled my nose, the warmth of his touch spread not only through my hand, but throughout my whole body, from my feet all the way up to my cheeks, and my vision was filled with his attractive features, his captivating smile, and his pair of eyes in whose pupils I was reflected.

On our way out, he asked me, "Have you ever played billiards?"

"Let's just say I tried once," I smiled awkwardly and shrugged, "why? Is that what we're going to do tonight?"

"Only if you like. We can also just have a snack, a drink..." he suggested.

"We'll see!", I smirked up at him, as he held the passenger door of his car open for me.

Normally I'm not very keen on trying new things and rarely move out of my comfort zone but with him, I thought to myself as he made his way around his car, it's easier for me and I was even looking forward to whatever he had up his sleeve that evening.

Turning the car keys and simultaneously pressing the button activating the seat heating Hvitserk started driving. "How thoughtful.", I thought, sinking into the warming seat.

Who needs a perfectly planned out date when all that matters is the person you spend the date with. Hvitserk made the very spontaneous date perfect, just the way it was. A billiards and dart bar would not have been my first choice for a date night, but it turned out to be the unthinkable best choice. We had the most delicious but also most spicy cheese nachos thanks to the jalapenos. They must have been harvested directly in hell. Luckily, they had milk there. How on earth could Hvitserk eat that without even making a face, except for the moments when he laughed heartily when I fanned myself or took a big gulp of the milk. "Be honest, it's more me than the nachos, isn't it?", he secretly teased me, and I poked him in the shoulder as I emptied my glass. "Oh, shut up!", I said, followed by a laughter. “But you didn’t deny it!”, he grinned at me.

“Which of you two lovebirds is up for playing billiards?”, one of his friends called out and therefore I got around an answer.

And who would have thought that I would also get along quite well with his friends and not just because they let me win at billiards. But seriously now, I'm really bad at billiards. If Hvitserk hadn't helped me so often, I wouldn't have won even then. Although you could have thought I was doing badly on purpose, just to have Hvitserk close to me, to feel his chest against my back and his hands on mine when he showed me again and again how to hold the billiards cue correctly. Who knows? Everything’s possible. We will never know. 

Either way, at least I could score true at darts, even without help. So, I honestly earned the drink bought by the loser of the round, which happened to be Hvitserk. "Because you distracted me!" he argues, but I argue otherwise. I may or may not have distracted him purposely by giving him the glad eye.

A few hours and drinks later we left the bar. Hvitserk had kindly offered to drive me home. I did not drink much, however, to get my car and drive myself was too risky at that point. I would go to pick up my car first thing tomorrow, until then it was well kept in front of Ivar and Hvitserk's apartment. 

And I was definitely in safe hands, too. I felt so comfortable with him, especially here in his arms, enclosed in what was intended to be a it’s-been-a-great-evening-I’ll-see-you-around-hug.

“Um, well…”, he loosened his embrace, "I guess I'll see you...."

“Actually…”, I started. Standing there, feeling like my heart is about to jump out of my chest, I realized I didn't want the evening to be over yet and most of all I didn't want him to leave just yet.

“Would you like to come in for coffee... or something?”, I asked, hoping the offer wouldn't come across weird.

“If you don't mind.”, he smiled down at me, starring directly into my eyes, “I’d actually love to… come in for a coffee or something.” And there he went teasing me again, didn't he?

“Come on in!”, I said, opening the door to my small apartment, and simultaneously reaching around the corner, turning the light on.

“Make yourself at home!”, I said gesturing to the suede couch, “I'll get us coffee.”

While I waited for the coffee maker to warm up, I heard Hvitserk walking through the living room, stopping here and there, then moving on. He was probably interested in all the embarrassing photos that hung on my walls and adorned my dressers. "Damn, I should have left the lights off," I joked to myself. 

Distracted by the loud sound of grinding coffee beans, I didn't notice Hvitserk joining me in the kitchen. I noticed him only when he turned my head to him and kissed me unexpectedly.

Completely caught off guard, I could hardly react, as he already loosened the kiss again. “I’m sorry, I just felt the urge to do it.”, he explained.

I grinned up to him like a Cheshire cat. “Fine by me.”, I said, “to be honest, I wouldn’t mind if you did it again.”

His lips twisted into a smirk before he lowered his hands to my hips, pulling me against him, granting my wish. Again. And again. The butterflies in my stomach went crazy and I felt intoxicated.

He lifted me onto the kitchen counter and his lips worked wonders on my lips and on every part of my skin he could possibly reach at the moment.

"What about the coffee?", I asked breathing out.

“I don't want coffee.", he answered plainly, “All I want is you!” And that I gave him willingly.

When I woke up the next morning, under the warming blanket, nestled against Hvitserk's chest and enclosed in his arms I couldn’t feel any happier.

Slowly and gently, as not to wake him, I looked up at him and thought: “I no longer wish to be her. I am exactly where I belong. Right here. With him by my side.”

Thank you so so soo much for reading. Really, I am so grateful for you reading my stories. I really appreciate it and I don't take it for granted. 💚😇 I really hope you enjoyed reading the last part of “I Wish I Were Her”. Feel free to leave any kind of feedback. 😊

Have a good start into the new year!!🎉

Tagged: @ecarroll1978​ @istorkyou​

[xlittlefiend]

Can someone point me in the direction of Hvitserk fanfics that aren’t modern, with plot, and smut?

Yall did not tag a single thing, and I’m looking at hundreds of posts!!! 😭😭😭😭🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

[bouncehousedemons]

Lust

Rating: E Pairing: Hvitserk x female character, Ivar x female character (written in second person, regrettable use of y/n) Warnings: Smut, angst, canon typical violence, hurt/comfort, pregnancy, brief mention of abortion Word count: 8k (7 chapters)

Summary:  Hvitserk liberates a farmer’s daughter from her quiet life in Northumbria, only to have his younger brother take a keen interest in her.

Read the full fic on AO3

[popcorn1989]

18: That's a Plan

Characters: Ivar and Hvitserk

Warning: Nothing

Words: 1551

Look here for the related short stories or for other stories: Here

Two more days until Ragnar and his crew, with Ubba, left Kattegat and explored a new land. Where they were going, Ivar didn't know, and it seemed that no one wanted to say. He sat at the table, with his head on his folded hands, again he caught himself counting the nuts in front of him, annoyed he rolled his eyes and flinched briefly when Hvitserk suddenly pulled the chair in front of him forward and sat down on it. He slammed his feet down on the table, dirt falling from his shoes as he did so. "Nothing... Nobody tells me anything..." - "Not to you either?" asked Ivar in astonishment, this was not like the people at all, they loved Hvitserk. "I should have fucking gone with Ubba, then I'd be going too in two days" Ivar leaned back and looked around annoyed "You repeat yourself quite a lot" he saw Hvitserk shrug his shoulder. "I'm just telling you the truth" Ivar was starting to get angry, at the moment everything immediately infuriated him.

But before he could say anything in reply, Hvitserk looked at him "Leave it, Ivar, I don't want to argue" he reached for the bowl with the thirty-five nuts. Yes, no matter how many times he counted them, he always came up with the same number. And as soon as Hvitserk started eating, he counted again, confused at himself, he shook his head and looked away. "Ivar?" his brother asked smacking his lips and stuffing more nuts into his mouth, "Didn't it ever occur to you that this was the opportunity......" - "Maybe you should make your mouth fuller, then I'll understand you better" His brother grinned and stuffed the nuts into his mouth and tried to say something. Ivar just shook his head in disbelief at his brother. Hvitserk put the bowl on the table and Ivar watched him try to chew. "Yes, I have thought about it" he said, knowing what his brother wanted to say. Astonished, he looked at him and raised an index finger. "Whatever you want to say, I'll do it without you" Now his brother looked at him frowning and swallowed. "Wait a minute, I'm not going to tell you not to do it" - "Good" said Ivar.

Hvitserk was just opening his mouth when Floki hit him on the shoulder. Ivar smiled when he saw Hvitserk flinch and turn to him. Floki looked at Ivar grinning, "Tell me old man, where are you going with my father?" Floki giggled and looked around, but there was no one in the great hall but them. "If I told you that, you young hairless chick, I'd have to kill you" - "But an old rooster like you gets to go?" - "Only the old are the wise and I don't see where you have become wise" - "You are an old fisherman without a boat if you think I won't learn" - "And you are the fish that goes on the line even though there is no bait on it" Floki spoke and they both looked at each other urgently. Hvitserk had looked from one to the other and looked rather as if he could not follow.

But then Floki and Ivar started grinning. "Tell me, where is your father?" Ivar raised his hands "If I told you that, old ass, I'd have to kill you" Floki chuckled up "Then I know where to find him. Thank you, Ivar" he patted Hvitserk's shoulder again and headed off to his father's private rooms, he was looking after Floki in amazement. "I don't know what's going on between you both, but it always confuses me" Floki had just disappeared through the curtain when Ivar looked at his brother, he was gathering the small pieces of nuts from the Bowl and eating them. "And I don't know what's going on with you, but I'm amazed how one can be so greedy" Hvitserk laughed "What I wanted to say..." he looked around again "Of course I'm with you Ivar, but you should know that I don't want to hurt or kill Sigurd" again Ivar raised his hands and looked shocked "I would never do that" but actually he wouldn't mind anything happening to Sigurd.

But he was torn, he was his brother, but had no feelings for him. Because Sigurd had already started making fun of him since they were little. They argued and fought, and of course he did the same with his other brothers. Even he and Hvitserk argued and fought and when this happened it always got out of hand, but it was forgotten the next day, besides Hvisterk never made fun of him for being a cripple, he even avoided calling him that unless they were in said argument. But he could never forgive Sigurd, and he never forgot any of it. He looked from his fingers back to his brother and realized that he didn't really believe him. "Hvitserk, do you really think I would kill one of my brothers?" It pained him somewhat that his brother believed that and Hvitserk took a long time to slowly shake his head, but if he was honest, he didn't really know himself.

"So... Fire?... Maybe...we should...tonight" Hvitserk spoke cautiously "No, definitely not tonight" - "Why?" - "As long as Ubba is here, we don't do anything" spoke Ivar, thinking back to how Ubba said that he could be quite different too, if Ivar doesn't refrain from teasing Sigurd. He didn't want to feel his wrath and for the first time he was even happy that his older brother was going with his father, even if he had liked to have his place. "That means we still have two more days, and we can think of something by then?" - "I don't have to think of anything, Hvitserk" - "You have a plan?" his brother asked, his eyebrows furrowed questioningly. Ivar nodded and asked him if he knew the Old Hut that stood outside Kattegat. It was built there so that hunters could stow their prey and continue hunting. But as Kattegat grew, the paths for the hunters became wider and wider, because the animals no longer approached the city, and the hut now stood abandoned.

"Yes, but what do you want with the hut, Ivar?" his brother now asked, becoming more and more skeptical and Ivar had the feeling that he knew exactly what he was up to, but he didn't want to admit it. "It's made of wood and if we put straw in it. Then it will burn even better" - "And you want to lock Sigurd in there?" Hvitserk took his feet off the table and shook his head skeptically, "That's madness. I told you I don't want to kill him" Ivar laughed out and wiped his face with both hands "If he's inside, nothing will happen to him, the fire is outside. But it will give him quite a fright, and he'll scream like a girl, and that's when we'll let him out" - "How are you going to do that? If everything is on fire, then we won't be able to open the door" Hvitserk said, shaking his head again, "That sounds very risky to me." - "We are not going to set the door on fire. What do you think about me?" he asked, confused.

His brother bit his lower lip, he always did this when he was thinking, "So, you want to lure Sigurd into the hut and lock it and then set the hut on fire? How are you going to lure him there, and how are you going to set the hut on fire? It won't burn any time soon" his brother asked, looking at him urgently. "No, no .... I'll explain it to you" Ivar said and really had to explain everything to his brother, but soon his brother nodded. He said it was a good plan, but Ivar had to promise him not to hurt or kill Sigurd. "That's a plan," he said again, raising the Bowl "I'll go and get something to eat," he said, grinning widely as Ivar rolled his eyes again. But he was not alone for long, Ragnar joined him, Floki raised his hand briefly in farewell, and he did the same.

"Still offended?" Ragnar asked him and Ivar laughed briefly, but it died away as quickly as it had come. "Of course not," he said seriously, but he avoided looking at his father. "Good, then I can tell you that I am taking Ubba, Bjorn and Aslaug with me" Ubba was clear, Bjorn as well, but at his mother... "Mother?" he asked confused, she had never travelled with him before. She was not a shield maid. "And who, please, is supposed to keep watch here, when no one is around?" Ragnar grinned broadly. "Do you really think I haven't thought it through?" - Oh no, please don't say it.... - he thought as his father was already saying who should stand in for him for so long "Sigurd" he swallowed and cocked his head to one side, he couldn't be serious, could he? That would change everything. "Hvitserk is much older than he...." - "Maybe, but I have decided" Ragnar spoke sternly and stood up. - Life couldn't get any better - Ivar thought to himself, but this wouldn't change his plan, he was sure of it.

End.

[bjornswoman]

Vikings Masterlist

Bjorn Ironside

Mine

Afraid of losing you

Heart's healer

His night

Precious

Arrows

Blue piercing eyes

I love you

Zinnia

False promises

Ubbe

His dark side

Jealous

Secret

Just listen

His bride

Sick girl

Little girl

My enemy and me*

Hvitserk

Goddess

One of his women

Betrayed

Best friends

Crazy and mad

Lies* (remake) / Lies*

Fake wedding

Worth it

My prisoner

Ivar the Boneless

Mad about you

Last night, Back to you

Break

Feelings

Crimes of love

Games and conflicts

Jealous girl

Right person wrong time

Photograph

Toxic I, II

Destruction*

Harald Finehair

Promise

Allies

Live for me

Free with you

Shieldmaiden's secret

[bravo4iscool]

i started watching vikings like two weeks ago and this came to my mind😭

(ubbe ragnarsson x fem!reader; lothbrok/ragnarsson family & fem!reader)

(we’re just gonna act like they’re all a happy family and no one hates each other and everyone is a decent human being lol)

(this is also anything but canon, everyone’s alive, no one’s dead and this has like no place in the timeline lmao. this is just my delusions taking over😭. this probably will have multiple parts too (if people want that lol))

(masterlist | join my tag list!)

REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!!!

you’re standing at the docks, erik on your hip and little ingrid by your side as you watch the ships slowly run into the habour of kattegat.

your daughter is all giddy beside you, just waiting for her father to finally arrive. “where is he mama? where is he?” she keeps asking, jumping up and down in excitement.

“i don’t know, baby,” you chuckle while the first ships arrive at the docks, the men leaving them in a hurry to get off. “i’m sure he’ll arrive soon,” you promise, ruffling your daughter hair.

meanwhile ubbe can’t walk towards you fast enough. there’s a big smile on his face as he keeps his eyes focused on you and the kids. he needs to take you into his arms again, he couldn’t wait.

he calls out your name when you don’t seem to notice him just yet and your head snaps up at his voice. your eyes light up when you finally see him almost running towards you.

once he reaches you he picks you—and erik—up in his arms, spinning you around. “my love,” he mumbles. “i’ve missed you.”

he sets you down again, immediately connecting his lips with your while his arms hold you close to his body. you sigh into the kiss, more than happy that your husband had finally returned.

when erik begins to squeak you both break the embrace. “look at you,” ubbe coos. “all grown up, my boy.” he takes erik from your arms and holds him up before he peppers his chubby face with kisses. “have you been good to your mama?” he asks, grinning when the baby begins to giggle.

“papa, papa!” ingrid starts to jump up and down again, grabbing her fathers clothes. “will you give me a kiss too?” she asks, her voice sweet and innocent as she blinks up at ubbe.

he looks at her and crushes down, “of course, my darling,” he smiles before he places his other arm around her and starts to plant small kisses all of her face.

the little girl starts to giggle, clearly happy that she’d gained her fathers attention. you only look at the three of them, thanking the gods that ubbe had returned home safe and healthy.

“papa?” ingrid then asks. “can i go greet uncle bjorn?” she’s giddy on her feet, looking at ubbe with those big eyes. “pleaseeeeee?”

ubbe looks at you and you give him a subtle nod. “you can,” he ruffles her hair. “but be careful, the docks can be dangerous.” his voice contains a clear warning but he doesn’t know if ingrid heard him because she’s already running off.

she’s quick on her feet as she dodges the people on the docks, searching for bjorn’s ship. once it came to her vision she let out a happy squeal.

bjorn stands on the docks, only seconds off the ship before ingrid launches herself into his arms. “oof,” he just manages to catch her, laughing when he clutches to him.

“i missed you uncle bjorn,” ingrid mumbles against bjorn’s chest, pressing her face against his armour. he tightens his arms around her, just enjoying the hug.

“i’ve missed you too,” he then mumbles. “my favourite niece, eh.” a smile breaks out on his face while he ruffles ingrid’s hair.

she giggles, “i’m your only niece.”

“that you are,” he smiles. “but you’re still my favourite.” ingrid starts to play with bjorn’s beard while he gently rocks her around in his arms. he wasn’t married, he had no kids, so he enjoyed the attention ingrid gave him.

“you’re standing in the way, brother,” a annoyed voice then sounds from behind bjorn and he turns around to see ivar standing behind him.

bjorn sighs and shifts ingrid in his arms. “there’s enough space to walk around me, ivar. don’t be such a baby.”

ingrid tilts her head and looks at the youngest ragnarsson. “hello uncle ivar.” she gives him a toothy smile, waving.

ivar only scowls and stumbles past bjorn and his niece. “do not call me that,” he hisses, not paying them both another glance. as he limps away the smile on ingrid’s face fades and she looks at bjorn with question marks in her eyes.

“why doesn’t he like me? or my mama?” she wants to know, turning in bjorn’s arms to look after ivar.

bjorn sighs again and grabs the back of her head gently to place a kiss on her hair. “you should not think about that, little one,” he softly mutters before he starts to move and walk towards his brother and sister-in-law.

-

you laugh as ingrid climbs all over bjorn’s shoulders, using his tall and broad frame as some kind of tree while your sitting back against ubbe’s side, erik in your arms. “be careful ingrid, you might fall,” you still warm her though, your eyes trained on her.

bjorn only chuckles and raises his hand to tickle her. “don’t worry about that. i’ll make sure nothing happens.” he winks at you.

“don’t flirt with my wife,” ubbe grumbles at that, still a small smile on his face.

hvitserk laughs and slightly shoves ubbe’s arm at his comment. “at that point, she’s our wife, my dear brother.”

ubbe shoots him a dead panned look before he rolls his eyes. “she’s more like a mother to you than anything else,” he huffs out a small laugh.

you slightly smirk at your husbands comment, patting his hand. “i like it that way,” you smile, standing up when erik starts to fuss around in your arms.

“you keep an eye on ingrid,” you point your finger at bjorn as you start to rock erik and make your way towards the door of the great hall. maybe fresh air would calm him down a bit.

you softly hum to your son, as you walk away from the hall a bit, just until you reach the first fields. “shhhh,” you coo at him, caressing his cheek with your finger.

but no matter what you did, he didn’t seem to calm down.

“maybe you should throw him away,” a familiar voice then sounds and you turn around to see ivar standing a few meters away from you. he’s propped up on his crouch, a permanent scowl on his face.

you let out a small huff and shake your head. “he’s a baby, ivar. he can’t express his feeling yet. sometimes crying is just easier for him,” you explain in a soft voice, continuing to rock erik.

“that’s why i don’t like babies,” he grumbles.

“you were a baby once.”

“i know.” his facial features were still tense as he stared at you, then at erik. “but i’m not a baby anymore.”

you didn’t know why ivar had—most likely—followed you out here. you knew he wasn’t particularly fond of you or your children. you couldn’t recall anything that would make him hate you but in the end of the day, that was how he was.

but even though he didn’t want you in his family, near his brothers, you loved him. he was your husbands brother. by marrying ubbe his brothers became your brothers and you loved them.

you look at ivar and slowly take a step towards him. “ivar,” your voice is soft and gentle as you speak, only erik’s little whines being audible. “why is there so much hatred in your heart?”

he freezes at your question, his eyes boring into yours. “i don’t have a heart,” he then hisses, taking a small step into your direction. “and i don’t need you to act like you care about me.”

“but i do.”

“no, you don’t,” he says, his jaw clenched and his body tense. “you’re lying. no one cares about me, except for my mother.”

you subtly shake your head and walk towards him until you’re standing in front of him. he had his head turned, staring at something behind you. “look at me ivar,” you softly demand, erik suddenly quiet in your arms.

ivar doesn’t listen to you. deep down you knew he wouldn’t but it was worth a try. so, you carefully raise your free hand, leaving enough time for him to pull back, and cup his cheek. “i said, look at me, ivar,” you say again, your voice gentle and calm, soothing even.

“why should i?”

you slowly start to caress his cheek bone with your thumb. “because i want you too see that my concern for you is genuine,” you answer, surprised that he hasn’t pulled back yet. he didn’t like being touched.

slowly ivar lifts his head to look at you, the conflict clear in his eyes. he was acting against all his instincts, against everything he knew.

a small smile plays around your lips as he looks at you. “you’re my brother, ivar,” you start. “and i love you. i care for you. whatever people might’ve done, might’ve said, you’re my family and i keep my family close to me.”

he’s silent while he listens to you, letting your words sink in. barely anyone has talked to him like that before. he wasn’t used to being at the receiving end of such feeling. he didn’t deserve that.

he swallows, “after all i’ve done—”

“i don’t care what you’ve done ivar or what you thought.” you gently pat his cheek before you pull your hand back to shift erik in your arms. “my love is unconditional. and if you never need someone to talk to or someone to listen, even a shoulder to cry on, my door is open. always.”

you get interrupted when you see ubbe walking towards you. he calls out your name, the concern evident in his voice.

“i think that’s my sign to get back inside,” you softly smile before you place your hand on ivar’s neck to pull him down and place a gentle kiss on his forehead. “think about my words, ivar.”

that’s the last sentence you say before you walk past him to assure your husband that you were alright.

pt.2, maybe a little series???

[thelirofnorthlands]

A little appreciation for the most lovely couple in Vikings 🥰

Helga and Floki ❤️

(photos or edits on them do not belong to me)

[undiscovered-horizon]

Hello there :) please could I request something for Vikings with a female reader if possible. Where the reader (a shieldmaiden) meets the ragnarssons for the first time after being taken in by Ragnar when her parents are killed, and they start developing feelings for her later on? 💙

Hey! Thought that making this into headcanons/preferences would be the best format, message me if you want a full work where I elaborate!🌺

🫀REQUESTS ARE OPEN🫀

Vikings preference: Falling for a shieldmaiden taken in by Ragnar

Bjorn A little rough around the edges, at first - you're a complete stranger, after all. Maybe he criticizes your posture one day and you're more than willing to make him prove his 'superiority'. Whether you win or lose is not as important as the sole fact that you were a challenge for him, although he might not outright admit that. Despite being a shieldmaiden and Bjorn having witnessed your abilities first-hand, he still perceives you as a woman first - the burden of upbringing, one might say. Because of that, he often tries to fight your battles for you, both on the battlefield and outside of it. Most of the time it's small things: bringing you this, giving you that. He definitely might come off as overbearing at times but there's no malice in his heart - Bjorn genuinely believes he's doing the right thing. The downside is that even your stern words might not knock off his habits (the two of you fought numerous times about his overprotective attitude). That protective side of him comes out especially strong during cold winter months when he needs to be extra sure that you're well-fed and warm. In his hot and cold attitude, you find irrefutable proof of his affection. After all, what else if not love could bring warmth and care out of a man known for his dauntlessness and reserved attitude? Bjorn puts his fondness into words in a very peculiar manner: suggesting your possible gains. In other terms, he hints at all the goods you'd have and the shortages you wouldn't suffer if he could have your hand. See that pile of wood that's going to last you for at least a month? Or the furs on your bed that are just enough to stay warm on a freezing winter night? Without half-truths and subtext, Bjorn assures you that he could provide you so much more. Although 'could' should be read as 'wants to' - a desire he's determined to fulfil only if you agree to be his.

Ubbe The one who actually talks to you first, with no expectations or prejudice. Even if he did have those, he's capable of looking past them and making a fair judgement only after getting to know you. At first he's a little uncomfortable with the situation and your person because you're kind of like a sister but not really? That apprehension doesn't last long, however: he's a little too smitten with you. To his own surprise, your presence makes the long absence of his father a little easier to bear - Ragnar didn't leave on a whim, he had a reason to do so and it was a good reason. If the other Ragnarsons treat you with malice, thinking of you as the sole reason they had to grow up fatherless, Ubbe is always ready to step in and de-escalate the situation. In some way, he's similar to Bjorn in expressing his affection in the sense of being protective. Ubbe perceives you as a woman, a woman he loves to be exact, and only then a warrior, despite getting a taste of your skills on his own. Just like his half-brother, he'd try to do things for you, deal with the mundane burdens of everyday life; he only cares about you. The thing that sets them apart is Ubbe's willingness to stand back - once he knows you can stand your ground, he lets go a little, although reluctantly. Another thing is that he already acts like your husband despite being yet to earn that title: always being in your vicinity, fighting any men who try to woo you, thinking ahead and gifting you anything you might need in the near future. Whenever his training alongside his brothers, Ubbe tends to tease them saying that you're better than them. Whether that is true or just brotherly spitefulness is yet to be determined. When the moment comes and Ubbe confesses his affections, he's very straight-forward, telling you how much you mean to him.

Hvitserk Curious and fascinated - you're pretty and courageous. Even if you end up rejecting him (a possibility he doesn't think is realistic), you seem like a great person to be around. He's friendly from day one. Keeps hinting at his romantic interest in you through smooth, sublime and yet unambiguous remarks, so there is no doubt about his intentions. In an attempt to spend more time with you, Hvitserk offered to join you in training. Clashing swords and breadth-of-hair ducks were not enough to stop his flirting (you had this growing suspicion that he's also unnecessarily touchy - not that you were one to complain). The only difference from his daily sweet talk was that with a sword in his hand, Hvitserk's words became vividly more explicit. Some of them caught you off guard but once the surprise washed away, you realized you had nothing against those generous offers becoming true. Even if his brothers are also interested in you, he doesn't see them as a competition or a threat of any sort. His approach wouldn't be a surprise to anyone who had even once seen you two together - there was no chance any other Ragnarson could sweep you off your feet. Truth be told, you knew Hvitserk's feelings before he told you, although it should be clarified that he didn't explicitly confess his affections: during a quite intimate moment, in bed and under furs, he suddenly asked you to marry him. Relationship-wise, out of all the Ragnarsons Hvitserk is the one to treat you the most equally to him.

Sigurd Begins to be interested in you simply because his brothers were. Then he noticed your ambivalence towards Ivar and how much it was pissing the youngest brother off and Sigurd was instantly on board - he might yet find an ally in you. Out of the Ragnarssons, he is the most invisible brother and so he didn't quite expect to pique your interest. To his surprise, you're the one to accost him, asking about living in Kattegat and the family reputation he has to hold up. Not to mention all the prince's responsibilities he has to suffer. From your own words, Sigurd learned that, just like him, you're not one for big crowds and front rows, preferring to stray from the eye of the storm that so often seemed to emerge around Ragnar and his sons. He finally found someone who understood his perspective and not only that - they shared it. The two of you are often disappearing somewhere together and the general population of Kattegat quite quickly catches on but you and Sigurd care little about those rumours. Definitely spent hours upon hours coming up with a wax poetic ballad about you. He put himself in one of the verses describing his growing fondness for you. Luckily for him, he won't have to change the verse about the shieldmaiden loving some guy named Sigurd back.

Ivar Acts like he doesn't care and tries to make himself believe that mainly because deep inside he had immediately dismissed the possibility of you being interested in him. You've heard stories of course but a certain degree of scepticism is a trait of a good warrior - it keeps you level-headed. Once when you were sitting on the pier, enjoying a moment of solitude, Ivar approached you only to ask about his father. After all, you'd spent more time with Ragnar than he did, even if he wasn't your actual parent. While sharing stories about the famous Ragnar Lothbrok, Ivar noticed that you're neither apprehensive nor fearful of him. In a way, it upsets him - he found himself in a situation where he doesn't have the upper hand. But this surprising and wholly unwelcome vulnerability didn't backfire. Truthfully, the longer you talked about the legend of Ragnar Lothbrok, the more Ivar wished you would stop talking about his father and simply talk about yourself. Except for his parents, you were the only person whose presence he didn't completely detest and Ivar was yet to make an opinion on how that made him feel. He definitely hates seeing you interact with his brothers as he naively thought that he was the only recipient of your sympathies and it's exactly that lack of exclusivity that makes him go out on a limb and make less-than-ambiguous remarks that you happily reciprocate. Sometimes, when he can't sleep at night, Ivar climbs onto his father's throne and dwells on various fantasies of glory and bloodshed. In those dreams, there's always a place for you - a brave and beautiful shieldmaiden that rides into battle by his side and gives birth to his children, who go on to become kings, emperors and conquerors.

[literaryuppsala]

I’m not sure if your requests are open! If not just ignore me !! Can you do a Hvitserk x reader where she’s a Targaryen that has been exploring other lands on dragonback and comes across Kattegat which has never seen a dragon? I just love when the OC is the center of attention 💕💕

Alright this took me a while to make and I had so much fun while doing It, as an asoiaf fan, to write for a Targaryen character was always something I wanted to do, but just never had the opportunity so thank you for your ask, i really loved it.

I'm gonna need your willing suspension of disbelief in two things here: asoiaf and vikings maps and languages spoken, with that being said, there's no warnings, no smut, just a kiss, a few of dragon rides and Ivar being the bad bitch he's always been.

The end is cut short because I totally gonna need more than just one chapter to develop this relationship, let me know if you want something like this.

Enjoy ♥

Life was a willow (and It bent right to your wind)

You were the center of attention since you were born, being the only daughter to the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, you inherited your mother’s title: the realm’s delight. You were Rhaenyra’s youngest child, not an heir, just a daughter and you loved that. Your brothers had to deal with lords and lands and battles, while you could do things as you will, and to be honest, what you loved the most was flying around on your dragon. 

You bonded with her very early and started flying at the age of seven, the same age your mother started flying Syrax. You named your dragon Seafyre, it was a she dragon, your favorite thing in the world, your best friend and your protector. She had a beautiful silver color with blue scales, her flames were blueish with a hint of silver and despite not being an adult dragon yet, she was growing very fast, you wondered If she would grow to be as big as Balerion was. 

Rhaenyra loved you dearly, at first she wanted to protect you from the matters of the Seven Kingdoms, but as you grew up, she saw so much of herself in you, she wanted you to do great things, wanted the people to know you not just as a beautiful young woman, but a strong princess. Seeing the love you had for your dragon and despite Daemon’s resistance, she decided to introduce you to the truth. 

Rhaenyra’s claim wasn’t as strong as Aegon’s simply because she wasn’t a man. Despite winning the Dance of the Dragons and killing her brother, not all of the lords accepted her power. They plotted against her and she knew she needed allies to call for when the time would come. You were smart and gentle, and the Queen decided to make you a messenger: you would fly to further lands and offer alliances with the Queen.

“You’re late.” Your mother scolded you as you entered the council room. 

“Lost track of time.” You answered a little embarrassed, taking off your gloves as you walked towards her. 

“Come, we need to talk.” She gently touched your shoulder as she guided you towards the table. 

Gathered around the table there was only the hand of the queen, your father Daemon and the Master of Whisperers, you knew what that meant. 

Every time the Master of Whisperers heard of new lands, he would come to Rhaenyra to tell her about the possibility of new allies, he was the one to tell her you were the perfect messenger for Dorne. After Prince Qoren’s death, his daughter Alliandra ascended to the throne. During the Dance, Rhaenyra asked for Dorne’s support but was denied, Prince Qoren decided he wouldn’t step into that fight. However, after killing Aegon and ascending, the Queen tried one more time, with you. Later, you and Alliandra ended up becoming friends and Rhaenyra finally had Dorne’s support.

This happened a lot of times. Rhaenyra would send you first, on your dragon, like a messenger of peace, you would study the place and the lord, would understand his needs and try to become a friend, then you’d come back home with information and most likely an invitation for a meeting with your mother and your father, this helped Rhaenyra to secure her time on the throne, but she knew she should use as much help as she could get. 

“We heard from a land of men across the Narrow Sea.” The Master of Whisperers started. 

“In Essos?” You asked with a frown.

“Beyond the Free Cities, beyond the Dothraki Sea. Where none of us had ever been.” He continued and you nodded. 

Rhaenyra held your hand before telling you: “We want you to go there.”

“That’s further than anywhere I’ve ever been…” You looked at her with widened eyes. “And I thought we’d had enough allies by now.” You crossed your arms in front of your chest. 

“It will never be enough.” Your mother answered. “We need as much support as we can get, you know that.”

“I know, I know…” Your shoulders brushed and you looked down, she cradled your face between her hands. 

“What is It, sweet girl?” She asked gently, making you look at her. 

“It’s just… Will this ever end? I mean… You… Sending me far away from home to find people willing to help you, offering your help, preparing for a fight that never comes.”

“This fight is lurking between the curtains of your mother’s house.” Daemon intervened. “It will come… Sooner or later.” He walked to you, taking Rhaenyra’s place and holding your shoulders, he gently touched your chin making you look up at him. “I don’t like this as much as you do, but at this point you’ve done it too many times…” 

“Seafyre will protect you.” Rhaenyra stated.

“We trust you.” Daemon caught your attention. “It’ll be just like the others.” 

Everything was settled and the next day you were ready to go. Seafyre was waiting for you at the pit as you said your goodbyes to your parents. 

“We don’t know their costumes, be sure to protect yourself and your dragon no matter what.” Rhaenyra started. “Your well being is more important than any agreement, so take care.” She kissed your forehead, a tiny smile on her face. 

“Yes, your grace.” 

“Be strong.” Daemon warned you, a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

You smiled at him before walking towards your dragon, you caressed her neck and mounted her, looking back over your shoulder before flying. 

You were used to traveling long distances on the back of your dragon, that was never a problem for you, but the thought of going to a foreign land so far from Kings Landing was still leaving you uneasy. Would they welcome you? Would they be aggressive? You had no idea. And after crossing the Narrow Sea, the thought became stronger, so did your fear. 

You crossed the Free Cities and the Dothraki Sea in one day, but what you didn’t know was that, after crossing those lands you would meet with another sea, a darker one. You caressed your dragon one more time imagining it would be a longer journey than you expected, she would be more tired as soon as you arrived, that would stop you from coming back right after.  

“Keep going, girl.” You whispered in hopes she would hear you. 

By morning you finally reached the sight of land and blinked incredulously: there really was a faraway land after the end of the world. You landed at the beach, Seafyre was so exhausted she laid down immediately. 

“This was great work, my girl. You did great, I’ll find you something to eat.” You murmured caressing her sides. 

You clearly caught the attention of the people there, the little houses around the beach had a few people gathering outside just to stare at you and your dragon. Women and children looked dumbfounded at both of you.

“Look, Lagertha!” A tiny voice sounded some place into the houses, you searched for the source, and it didn’t take long for you to find it, a little boy rushed towards you with a little girl running right behind him. 

“HALI! ASA!” This time a woman screamed, she ran towards the children. 

You quickly grabbed the two before they reached Seafyre and crouched before them with a smile. 

“Calm down, she’s tired.” You warned. 

“Is this… Is this…” The little boy stuttered.

“A dragon. Her name is Seafyre.” You helped him.

“Seafyre…” The little girl repeated, her eyes sparkling as she looked at the dragon.

“Is she yours?” He asked and you nodded. “You came from the sky with her, flying on her back!” 

“Not from the sky, from-”

Suddenly a pair of hands grabbed the children’s shoulders and pulled them away from you, the woman was defensive and you understood, so you stood up and smiled at her, trying your best to look harmless. 

“What are you?” She asked with a growl. 

“A woman, just like you.” You offered your hand for her, she looked at you with a frown and didn’t take it. You withdrew your hand and smiled embarrassed. “I come from another kingdom, one that is far away from here. I come in peace.” You tried again.

“What kingdom? Are you from England?”

“England? Is it another kingdom?” It was your turn to look at her and ask with a confused frown.

“What kingdom are you from?” She insisted.

“Westeros, I’m from Westeros.”

“Never heard of It”

“Never heard of yours either, yet here I am.” 

She was dumbfounded, suspicious to say the least. Looking at you and at your dragon with a deep frown on her face, It was clear to you that these people never once saw a dragon in their lives, you were shocked but no so much, you were separated from each other by two large oceans, a dragon is just one of the probable differences between you. 

“I believe your name is Lagertha, right?” You tried but she didn’t respond. “I know you’re scared but I come from a long journey, and I need to feed my dragon. I see you have a few animals around, I wonder If you could give me one.” 

“What if I don’t?”

“I can’t control her when she’s hungry.” 

Lagertha looked at the gigantic animal and gulped. 

“Come.” She talked to the children who whined and struggled a little to follow her, but did it anyway.

You waited patiently until she came back with two big pigs, showing them to you. You nodded before taking the leash from her hands and taking the pigs towards your dragon. That would give her enough strength for hunting for herself afterwards. You put the two pigs in front of her, she sniffed the air and opened her eyes. She quickly ate the two pigs with a loud growl, startling Lagertha who walked back two or three steps, away from you both. 

“She’s sweet most of the time.” You said loud, caressing her sides as she calmly laid back down. “But not when she’s hungry.” You joked before looking back at Lagertha. 

“I think we should go to see the king.” She mumbled under her breath, trying to look away from your dragon and focus on your face.

“Don’t you think he would like to see her first?” You tried.

“Come here?”

“Yes. This way he can see the nature of my offer with his own eyes.” 

She didn’t answer, just left without saying a word. You stayed there for a few hours feeling a little stupid but before giving up, you saw a group of people coming to the beach, one of them in a chariot while the others followed. They talked among themselves and looked at you with widened eyes. You prepared for their approach, standing beside your sleeping dragon trying to look as peaceful as possible. 

“So, is this the beast?” Said the man coming down from the chariot. 

“Her name is Seafyre.” You corrected him, noticing he needed the help of a pair of crutches to walk. 

“You wanted to see the king. Here I am.” He answered with a smirk. “I’m Ivar.” 

“It’s an honor, Lord Ivar.” You bowed. “As I said to Lady Lagertha, I come in peace, I come with an offer.” 

“What kind of offer?” He asked suspiciously. 

“An alliance.” You answered. “I come as Princess of Westeros to offer you an alliance from my kingdom to yours. My mother, the Queen, is willing to fight for you with all her powers when you ask for, as long as you fight for us when we do the same.” 

“Do you have more of these?” He asked, a sparkle in his eyes as he looked at your dragon and you nodded. “Can you bring them to the fight?” 

“I can.” You smiled and he did the same. 

“You can enjoy our hospitality for as long as you need, then you can teach me more about your kingdom and tell me more about this offer and your dragons.” 

***

You were all gathered in a place they called “the great hall”. It was very cold, and reminded you of Winterfell. You sat around a fireplace at the center and everyone was paying close attention to you. Later you learned they were all related, the king and his brothers: Ubbe, Hvitserk and Sigurd, their wives sat by their sides and all of them looked at you with widened eyes and suspicious looks. You were very different from them with your violet eyes and platinum hair, and your Targaryen attire in bold red drew attention against their black tunics. 

“Where’s this West- Westeros?” Ivar talked first. 

“Across the sea…” You started to answer but were quickly interrupted. 

“We traveled across the sea, never heard of a kingdom called Westeros.” He insisted. 

“You haven’t traveled enough.” You smiled and shrugged. “It took me almost two days on my dragon, and dragons travel fast.” 

“Why is it that you’re looking for an alliance so far from your home?” Ivar’s brother, Ubbe, asked you. 

“Why would you ask for an alliance?” You asked like it was obvious. “Cause it’s good for both parts.” 

“You gotta tell me what’s the good thing for you in It.” Ivar continued. 

You sighed. “My mother is the Queen, but she had to fight for her throne, she earned It… However not every lord of Westeros is comfortable with her power.” 

“You need support.” Ivar mumbled. 

“Don’t you need it?” You asked, a frown on your face. “Don’t you have your own wars to fight?”

“I can very much use the support princess, I mean we’re talking about dragons here…” He smiled. “But I don’t need It, I’ve been fighting my wars with my bare hands way before you came here.”

“So, you’re saying my offer doesn’t interest you?” You asked with a frown.

“That’s not what I’m saying…” He corrected you. “See, as I said, you are welcome to enjoy our hospitality here as long as you need. And we can keep talking about your offer in a way that can be good for both of us.”

Someone filled your cup one more time and you smiled kindly at her, Ivar poked at one of his brothers, Hvitserk, and whispered something in his ear, he looked at you before both of them left the table, excusing themselves, they crossed the curtains and vanished on the back of the great hall as you followed them with your eyes until you lost their sight. You looked around feeling very conscious of your own loneliness in that place, there really was a feast going on, they were quick to prepare the food, but all of them looked at you with fear in their eyes, whispering to each other while staring at you, being the center of attention never bothered you like that before, you drank from your cup and sighed, feeling frustrated already. 

“Are you sure?” Hvitserk asked Ivar, his voice low under his breath while his brother put himself a cup of ale. 

“I am sure. I can sense she needs us more than we need her…” He sipped from his cup before huffing out a frustrated laugh. “At least, in a way she needs us more.” 

“You think she’ll accept It?” Hvitserk insisted. 

“Well, why not?” Ivar shrugged. 

“She’s already offering us her dragons, I mean, she might feel like she doesn’t need to give us anything else.”

“So, we’ll convince her.”

The first rays of sun crossed the cracks of the windows and woke you up, painfully reminding you you were not at your own chambers back in King’s Landing. You sat at the bed and stretched a little, seeing a few clean clothes laid down beside your bed alongside a bow with fresh water. After freshening yourself and changing your clothes, you left the room they prepared for you, walked towards the noise you heard coming from the great hall, but as soon as you crossed the curtains, they stopped talking. 

“Princess!” The same little girl from the other day ran towards you, offering her hand for you to hold, and you smiled accepting her offer. “Come sit by my side.” 

“Of course.” You sat by her side and were quickly followed by the same little boy. “What are your names?”

“I’m Asa.” She answered with a smile. “This is my brother Hali.” 

“It’s very nice to meet you both.” 

“Do you have other dragons??” The boy asked excitedly.

“I gotta tell you, every person in my family has a dragon.” You answered proudly. “My mother’s dragon is called Syrax and my father’s, Caraxes. All my brothers and sisters have dragons of their own.” 

“How many dragons do you have?” Ivar questioned. 

“A lot. Like I said, every person from my family has one.” 

“Where did you find them?” Little Asa asked. 

“Well, that’s a long story.” 

“We’d love to hear It.” Hvitserk was the one to speak this time, you looked at him and nodded. 

You spent the whole morning telling the stories about your family, how they managed to escape from Old Valyria with a few dragons, how the family remained on Dragon Stone for centuries before Aegon decided to finally fly to King's Landing. They paid attention to everything you said, especially the kids who seemed in awe with all the stories about battles and dragons. You learned that Hali and Asa were Torvi’s children and that she was Ubbe’s wife. Ivar was married to another woman called Freydis, and Sigurd and Hvitserk were still unmarried. 

“And he was as big as the sky?” Hali asked with big eyes.

“Balerion could strike a shadow over a whole city when he flew.” You answered with a smile. 

“Did you see him?” Hali’s eyes sparkled.

“He passed before I was born, but we still have a dragon from his time, she’s almost as big as he was, her name is Vhagar.” 

“Does she belong to anyone?” Torvi asked you as curious as her children.

“My sister, Baela, is her rider.” 

“Isn’t she too old?” Ubbe questioned.

“She’s very old, that’s why she’s so big, we suspect her time is already coming to an end like It came to Balerion, we’re just waiting.” 

By the end of the day you were all gathered at the beach, watching as Seafyre flew around. You felt when a tiny hand grabbed yours and looked down, little Asa stared at you with hopeful eyes. 

“Do you want to fly with me?” You asked crouching in front of her. 

“REALLY?” She asked excitedly. 

“Really! Go and ask your mother.” 

The little girl ran towards her parents, Ubbe caught her in his arms and they both walked towards you with suspicious looks. 

“Isn’t It dangerous?” Torvi asked you. 

“No, you can trust me.”

They looked at each other before putting the little girl back on the ground, they nodded, letting her come to you, you grabbed her hand and walked towards the sea shore, you called Seafyre’s name and she immediately came to you, landing right by your side. You rubbed her sides before helping Asa on her top, mounting behind her very quickly. 

“You can hold here.” You pointed to the handle of the saddle, whispering in her ear. “Or you can hold my arms…” 

Asa was very brave, laughing and screaming through the whole time you were flying, she held your arms firmly, but for a moment she dropped it and raised them up her head, making you hold her against your chest with a little more strength. When you landed back on the beach she was already begging you to fly again, but her brother, Hali, seemed to have his own plans. You gave both children a few rides on your dragon, carefully handing them back to their parents afterwards and promising to do the same the next morning. 

After a few hours you saw yourself alone on the beach, watching as Seafyre made a show of eating fishes from the ocean. You felt a presence beside you, looking around to find Hvitserk standing a few feets away from you, you smiled to yourself imagining he feared to be close to you because of your dragon. 

“You can come closer, you know.” You told him and he looked at you, his cheeks reddened a bit and he looked down before approaching. 

“Hali and Asa are way more brave than I am.” He smiled to himself before looking at you, as if he was taking a moment, his smile slowly died on his face and he looked forward before starting to speak again. “Princess, I have to talk to you.”

“Sure.” You answered quickly. 

“My brother has an offer he wants to make to your mother.” 

“This can be arranged, you can prepare your ships to follow me back to King's Landing to have a meeting with her.” You reassured him and he nodded. Both of you stayed in silence for a moment and you felt him uneasy. “But that’s not the only thing you want to ask me, is it?” 

Hvitserk looked down at his own feet, his arms firmly crossed behind his back. “No… It isn’t.”

“Lord Hvitserk I can assure you that my family always respects our alliances, you have no reason to fear, we’ll keep our word.” 

“But you understand we need more than your word, right? We’re not very much of a threat to you, I mean we don’t have dragons, and we need to protect ourselves.” 

This time you looked away, but immediately felt his gaze on you. It made you warm all over for some reason. 

“Is that the nature of your offer, my lord?”

“Yes.” 

A gust of wind crossed your body and you hugged yourself, knowing exactly when Hvitserk stopped looking at you by the way your skin raised in goosebumps because of the cold breeze. 

“It’s a marriage offer.” Hvitserk continued. 

“My mother is already married.” You joked. 

“Are you?”

“I’m not looking for a husband, Lord Hvitserk.” 

“You’re looking for an alliance.”

“In the name of my family, yes. But I am not selling myself in order to get It.” You looked at him with a frown. “And I thought your brother was already married.”

“He is.”

“Than who…”

“Me.”

Both of you looked at each other at the same time. Hvitserk was a handsome man, beautiful green eyes staring intently at you, studying your face like he wanted to know what you were thinking, he caught your eye before, especially that morning when he seemed so invested in your stories, but at that moment you didn’t know if he was truly interested in you or It was just because of his brother’s marriage offer. Seafyre landed by your side startling him, who walked back a step or two, looking dumbfounded at her.

“Do you ever fear her?” Hvitserk asked you while still looking at your dragon. 

“Never. She would never hurt me.” You answered under your breath. 

“You said you can’t control her when she’s hungry.” He insisted. 

“She’s very protective of me, she might resent me for a bit, but never hurt me.” 

You looked at her, rubbing her skin while Hvitserk looked at you with a sparkle in his eyes, he was mesmerized.

“She’s a wonderful animal.” He breathed out.

“She is…” You responded, taking a step away when you noticed she was about to fly again. “You know…” You sighed, looking forward while she flew away. “My mother married another man before she married my father. It was someone chosen for her, someone they said would be good for her. She wasn’t fully happy with him, this I know of, because she always loved my father. Eventually her first husband died and she could finally marry him…” You looked at him. “She promised me she would never force me into marriage, she didn’t want a life of sadness for me, she won’t accept your brother’s offer.”

“Would you?” He insisted.

”I don’t see marriage as a political deal.” You told him. “I want to marry out of love, not out of duty.”

“Are you already saying no?” He asked under his breath. 

“Yes.”

That night you struggled to sleep, tossing and turning on the bed, you couldn’t keep your mind off of that man and how you felt warmer under his gaze. You sighed, stared at the ceiling and mumbled to yourself: “I need some air”. You changed your clothes and left your bedroom, walking over to the beach to clear your head. As soon as you got there you noticed Hvitserk sitting on the sand, surprisingly close from Seafyre, a cup in hand while he seemed to be talking to himself. 

“Can’t sleep?” You asked as you approached. 

“Too many thoughts in my head.” He answered after drinking from his cup. “You?”

“Mine too.” You answered, looking at him. 

“Yeah… A lot of things to think about, right?”

“Yeah…” You sat by his side, staying in silence for a moment, feeling the warm breeze of the ocean on your face. You looked at him as he drank another sip of his cup, Seafyre slept peacefully a few feets away from you both and you smiled to yourself before speaking again. “I see you’re not scared of her anymore.” You nudged his arm and he looked at the dragon. 

“I guess I’m too drunk to think of self preservation.” He answered and you smiled. Another moment of silence surrounded you both before he spoke again. “Would you take me for a ride?”

“You mean now?” You asked him with a frown and he nodded. “Yeah… Sure.” 

You approached Seafyre and caressed her sides, waking her up whispering something in valyrian, Hvitserk stood up behind you, nervously waiting. You mounted her and offered your hand for him, he walked hesitantly towards you, holding your hand before mounting the dragon right behind you, quickly wrapping his arms around your waist, sending goosebumps all over your body, you trembled. 

“Hold tight.” You warned him before flying and he heard you, squeezing you tight between his arms. 

 “I am…” He mumbled into your ear. 

Despite the cold wind cutting roughly through your body, you felt warm. Hvitserk’s hands held firmly on your stomach, you had your back against his chest while he rested his chin on your shoulders. To have him so close brought a different feeling to you, a sort of dizziness that would blur your sight, raise the beating of your heart and make your hands start sweating. You turned your head and looked at him, he had his eyes closed, face slightly red from the wind.

“Open your eyes.” You mumbled under your breath.

You watched as he obeyed you, opening his eyes a little hesitantly, blinking incredulously as he looked forward. You smiled to yourself while making your dragon go up faster and Hvitserk held you tighter. Your skin prickled, goosebumps spread all over your body as you felt his own pressed closely against yours. 

“This… This is-” He whispered in your ear and you trembled again.

He then looked at you, your faces so close you could feel his hot breath against your cheeks, you gulped, quickly looking forward. The ride was cut short, you feared for yours and Hvitserk’s safety considering how much he affected you and as you landed, he easily dismounted your dragon, offering his hand to help you do the same, as your feet touched the sand, your legs betrayed you, shaking from whatever feeling that man was causing you and you needed help to stand, his hands wrapped around your waist one more time and he used his own body to keep you still. Your hands went straight to his shoulders and you looked up at him. 

Hvitserk was even more beautiful from that close, his lips were a thin line as he stared intently at you, your stomach turned again and before you even thought about moving away, he kissed you. His lips softly touched yours for a second and you immediately closed your eyes, like reflex, he then kissed you properly, lips crashing against yours hungrily, tongue massaging yours into your mouth, when you ran out of breath and you separated, a thin line of saliva kept you connected for a moment before parting. His hands came to cup up your cheeks, your noses touching while you both looked into each other's eyes, gazing, lips swollen, still wet from your kiss. Seafyre growled right beside you, startling you both and making you move away from each other. 

“Someone is jealous I guess.” Hvitserk said, rubbing the back of his neck a little embarrassed. 

“I guess we should go back… And try to sleep.” You mumbled, still dizzy. “It’s late.” 

Hvitserk nodded and offered his hand for you to hold and you both walked back to your bedrooms. He walked you towards yours and kissed your cheek goodbye before going to his. As you laid down on your bed again, something was different. You smiled to yourself as you closed your eyes and touched your own lips, his face coming immediately to your mind as you thought about that kiss. That wasn’t your first kiss, of course, you had your little flings as you were growing up, but nothing ever left you so uneasy, Hvitserk made you feel different. 

The next morning you were back at the beach, wondering If you could just fly back to your home, trying to avoid Hvitserk’s thoughts but failing as the kiss found a way to crawl back to your mind. As a figment of your imagination, he showed up at the beach, walking towards you with a little smile on his face. 

“You were very silent this morning.” He told you as he approached. 

“Hali and Asa weren’t there to make me talk too much.” You joked, avoiding his gaze. 

“What are you thinking?”

“Coming back home, I guess It’s time.” 

He stayed silent for a moment and, again, you felt when his gaze abandoned your body, the ocean breeze engulfing you uncomfortably. 

“Seafyre is well rested.” You spoke again. 

“What about our alliance?”

“I told you, I’m not willing to sacrifice my entire life in an unhappy marriage just to make an alliance.”

“Would that be so bad?” His hand carefully touched your forearm and you finally looked at him. 

“Are you really interested in me, Lord Hvitserk?” You asked him back, staring intently at him. “You want me, or my dragons?”

He caressed your cheeks with the back of his hand and you unconsciously leaned into his touch, closing your eyes. 

“I already know you’re the most incredible woman I have ever met, I just want to get to know you more…” 

“What are you asking me?”

“To give me one chance, I want to be your lover, want to conquer your love.” 

[knight-of-flowerss]

she-bear : chapter two

navigation | warnings : sexism, talk of battle | a/n : I did this at like half nine to half ten at night while being sick so sorry if it's bad😭 | wattpad | tags : @thethreeeyed-raven , @fangsp1der-2099 , @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom , @thelirofnorthlands , @naaladareia , @not-that-syndrigast

When I was young grandmother would tell my siblings and I about a castle somewhere in Norway. It's walls are tall and wide, drum towers on all four corners, stone bricks mossy and decayed, a lavish courtyard and a great hall that would be filled with mouth watering courses.

It took over thirteen years until it was fully built. They started when I was five, thirteen years later I'm eighteen, still patiently waiting to go to this palace of wonders.

And the time finally came.

It was Greta's tenth birthday, festivities at a high with young children running around playing games, their mothers and grandmothers talking in the corners of the hall while keeping an eye on their curious children and the fathers and the grandfathers all in the study, drinking fine wine and talking about business.

All of a sudden all of the fathers are back in the hall and the mothers are rounding up their unruly cattle, trying to get them to sit still as everyone sits at the long tables and face the long Godfrey family table that sits higher than everyone else's.

My mother and father walk to their seats as my siblings and I take our seats, trying to keep the birthday girl still. After everyone is seated my father stands up with a cup of wine in his hands, "Today I want to celebrate my lovely daughter, Greta, she is ten years old today and she is nearly a young woman. With that I would like to gift my family with a large present. As you know, Greta has always wanted to live in a castle, Elsa lost her husband a few months back and times have just been harsh and stressful with the battle between our prideful Duetschland!," [Germany].

People cheered at the comment on our great nation, spilling wine as they cheered, "And the sly, cunning Poland, the route of all our problems. They think that they can beat us? Win this war? They are crazy like a woman who thinks she can be as powerful as a king!"

Men laughed at the comment on women and Poland, the many Ladies sat with uncomfortable smiles on their faces. "As soon as we win this battle and burn the traitors of Germany, my family and I will be leaving our motherland."

A few gasps left the mouths of the guests as shocked faces flooded the hall, including me and my siblings faces. Greta squealed with joy and jumped out of her seat, running to our father, running into him giving him a big hug. "Oh thank you father! Thank you!," she pauses and looks up, "But father where are we going? England? The Netherlands? France? Denma-" Greta was cut off as my father put his large hand over my sisters mouth with a small chuckle as she just looks up at him.

"Now, now dear pearl," He looks up and smiles at the guests in the hall, "What have I said about interrupting me when I'm giving a speech?", "not to... sorry father..", "It is alright pearl, anyways, as I was saying, we will be moving away from our great country for the sake of my children and parents. We will be going to a place that my father holds dearly in his heart and wants to spend the rest of his numbered days there, as most of you have noticed, my mother and father are not present, that is because they are currently settling into our castle that has been getting built for the last thirteen years."

Mine and my siblings heads shoot up, looking at my father. Could he be talking about the castle in Norway? The one we used to play princesses and knights dreaming about? We waited in anticipation as he gave a smile to the crowd.

"We will be moving to Norway, on the outskirts of Kattegat, a major trade city with the infamous Ragnar Lothbrok being their old king but leaving due to his failed attempt in Paris, we will be living near a peaceful trade centre which will provide fresh food and remedies for my frail father as he battles his illness."

My siblings and I sat in shock as the tales from our childhood were coming true. A smile etched its was onto my face as a I dreamt of a new beginning in a place that is known worldwide for its story of how the small fishing town became one of the most famous trading cities in the world.

[ritual-unions]

Touch Me

Moodboard by @therealvikingstrash (that I am still absolutely still in love with)

Modern!Hvitserk x OFC

Summary: Ubbe solicits Hvitserk into having sex with his girl, Dusty, so that he can watch, things don’t go as planned when Hvitserk’s new girlfriend, Honey, walks in on the three of them mid-coitous.

A part of my "Broken Clocks" series, in which the sons of Ragnar own a strip club, The Valkyrie, located in England, much to the annoyance of the Christian council, Ecbert, and his son, Aethelwulf.

My submission for #smuttyvikings by @vikingsevents the Day 2 prompt: "Touch | Featherlight, Rough, Tender"

Warnings: NSFW, cuckolding, oral sex

Read on Ao3 if you prefer

Honey B is in her power most days. She has off days. Days where she wakes up and does not feel like wearing a teeny tiny string bikini and would rather put on sweatpants and curl back under the bed covers. Days when her favorite platform heels feel too small for her feet or the pimple on her chin feels too big to go out in public. 

They think because she is small that she cannot handle the realities of the world. Ubbe had warned her as such when she applied for the job but she knew what she was signing up for, so she says her thanks and accepts the job. 

She thinks she has seen it all in the months that follow. It is not until she stumbles upon Hvitserk with his tongue deep in Dusty’s pussy that she realizes she has not.

*****

There is enough money scattered across the stage that it piles to the top of Dusty’s feet. Even in her four inch heels the notes brush the thin straps of her platform heels. She seems to float through the pile as if she is walking through water. 

The chrome pole is beckoning her. Dusty’s fingers curl around it, latching on and then climbing to the top. With only her thighs to hold her in place she stretches back, floating in the air. 

Hvitserk can’t take his eyes off of her. 

For the past two hours Dusty has been dancing for a private group of men but that does not stop her from getting back in her groove. This time she will dance for herself and no one else. 

Hvitserk watches as she floats around the blanket of devotion that has been laid on the stage. He cannot imagine the total number of notes that are here but he guesses it will be enough for her to pay all her monthly bills plus some. 

It is not the money he is in awe of but the strength that keeps her on the pole. Setting aside the trash bag that is half full of cash he has been collecting for her he sits back on the plush cushions of the bench opposite of the stage, takes out the radio that is jammed in his ear, letting it hang along the collar of his shirt and relaxes to take in the show. The voices of bouncers, bartenders and Ivar’s direct commands converge in a static chatter that he ignores, instead focusing on Dusty. 

The thick red curtains that surround the semi-private room are closed. Ivar will not see Hvitserk sitting down on the job, that is, unless he is in the office watching the cameras. Not that it matters. It’s a Wednesday night and The Valkyrie is only at seventy percent occupancy, low compared to the weekends, and Hvitserk sees nothing wrong with taking a break. 

Digging into his pocket Hvitserk pulls out a fresh box of cigarillos, peels off that plastic wrapper that seals it shut and sets to rolling a spliff. The small cocktail table before him is sticky in one corner and he plucks a discarded note near his foot to use as a makeshift tray where he can work, undisturbed by the cocktail juice. The cigarillo paper cracks open between his fingers and he empties out the tobacco carefully onto the note’s surface. The weed he pulls from the inside pocket of his jacket is schwag, not worthy of a stand-alone smoke, so he mixes it with the tobacco to create something better. A mind and body high that he enjoys so much. 

The music in the main hall shakes the ground but as it filters through the curtains it is only a muffled beat that hits Hvitserk. His ears ring in the half-silence as he handles the cigarillo with care. It wants to crumble under his grip as he tries to balance the paper in one hand and the note filled with tobacco and weed in the other but he has done this enough to know the exact pressure to apply. 

Out of the corner of his eye he can see Dusty still floating in the air. Her arms are spread out wide as her head hangs back, spinning slowly. She is like the ceramic figurines Aslaug used to put out during the holidays. The electronic figure skater was always his favorite to watch as she slid effortlessly across the ice. Unlike the figurine whose wide eyes were round with wonder Dusty’s are closed off to the world. 

Floating.

Dreaming. 

Elsewhere.

“Who were those guys?” Hvitserk asks as his fingers curl around the cigarillo paper, sealing it shut. 

Dusty hums in reply, coming down from the cloud she has escaped on. A place where no one can touch her. None of her problems exist. It is only her and the little world she has created for herself. 

She licks her lips contemplating her answer before reaching upwards towards the pole. 

Sliding to the ground she says, “politician's son.” Her heels do not make a sound as they land on the stage. “And his china plates.” Dusty mocks in a feigning Cockney accent. Her lip snarls at her own joke. Her own accent is a muddle mix of the Russian immigrant parents who raised her and the dialect of the English countryside she was born in.

She slides to her knees gracefully, dancing to the muffled song pounding outside of the room, bending back until her head rests on the stage, arm stretched above her head.

From this contorted position she peers at him, watching him for a moment before she speaks whatever it is on her mind. Dusty, while hot headed and quick to speak her mind, first wears her thoughts on her face before she opens her mouth. Hvitserk has witnessed this process unfold between her and Ivar enough to know it well. He waits, too concentrated on getting the spliff perfect to be bothered by her drawn out stare. 

“Ubbe says he has a request for you,” she finally announces. 

Hvitserk licks the paper, wetting the edges. He can’t help but smirk. Dusty has never been one to not beat around the bush. He appreciates her bluntness most days. She is unlike Ivar or Bjorn who attempt to show off their intelligence with riddles and snide remarks. 

“He told me,” Hvitserk mumbles as he licks the cigarillo paper.  

“And?” Dusty impatiently demands. 

Hvitserk pulls the flame of his lighter to seal the edges of the paper, not looking up at her until he is certain his spliff is complete. Placing one end between his lips he replies.

“I’ll do it.” 

Clicking the lighter twice he brings the flame to the end of his spliff. Unintentionally he smirks around the cigarillo when Dusty beams with glee. She is happy that he said yes. It is no ordinary request, he admits, but she should know by now that he rarely says no to Ubbe. 

He inhales a few short puffs to get the spliff rolling, watching through thick clouds of smoke as Dusty approaches. She is beautiful. Tall with long hair that reaches her waist, her makeup is still perfectly manicured though he knows she has labored the past two hours performing and before that for half an hour on the main stage.  

She pulls the spliff out from between his lips, taking a long drag of her own before handing it back. 

He plucks at the black elastic floss that wraps around her belly. “What is this?” He ponders with a tilt of his head. “What do you call this outfit?” He has to sit back in his seat to see her fully. 

“A bodysuit.” Dusty grins, swaying a little to show off her outfit. Then, as if on autopilot, she moves into a dance, rolling her hips towards him. 

“Don’t know much about women’s clothing,” Hvitserk chuckles, stretching out his legs to make room for Dusty’s little dance. “This ain’t a bodysuit.” He reaches up, tapping the edge of a flower motif that covers one nipple. There is underwire supporting her breasts but otherwise the outfit is all string and bits of lace. 

Dusty laughs, that deep throaty sound that he first heard at the pub downtown all those years ago when he watched her get kicked out for being underage. She had laughed in the bouncer's face, fearless of the oversized muscles and excessive testosterone. Hvitserk had followed her outside watching as she fought against the bouncer, wiggling like a wildcat in his grip until he had practically thrown her on the streets but she had kept her balance, regardless of the fact that she wore skinny stiletto heels. Hvitserk knew instantly The Valkyrie needed her.   

“They seem to like it.” Dusty shrugs her shoulders, nodding her head to the metaphorical customers who had gaped at her outfit, their minds foggy with little fantasies playing through their heads of all the things they would do to said strings if only they could touch her. 

“Bet they did,” Hvitserk replies, head rolling back against his seat as the spliff takes a hold of his mind. He reaches out to caress the skin where two straps overlap but Dusty brushes away his touch with a swipe of her hand even as her hips sway towards him. 

“No touching,” she whispers even as her hands caress the length of her body as if trying to tempt him. Touching her breasts. The sides of her body. The straps he so desperately wants to snap just to hear her hiss in pain. 

Hvitserk huffs in contempt. He knows the rules, he was present when his brothers had worked to create them. He can’t help but feel insulted by Dusty keeping to them even after he has agreed to Ubbe’s special request. 

“Not yet,” she adds when she notices his pouting. She caresses his chin before she turns to sit in his lap, grinding against him. 

She starts slow. Her bare ass cheeks are a whisper against the fabric of his slacks. Dropping low to the ground, her fingers wrap around his thighs, digging into his flesh, an aid as she sways back up. Arching her back she rolls until she settles in his lap, grinding a little deeper this time. 

He can feel a growl working its way up his throat, mouth twitching as he tries to swallow it. 

Dusty’s head rolls back to rest next to his. “Sorry,” she lies. “It's only that I like to tease you.” 

For now, he thinks. His fingers curl into fists on his lap. 

Ubbe is quiet when he enters the room, slipping through the curtains without a sound. Hvitserk almost doesn’t hear him; he is too focused on Dusty grinding against his crotch. 

Ubbe’s eyes drag across Hvitserk and Dusty’s precarious placement but says nothing.

Ubbe is here to watch and that is all. 

Hvitserk can’t help but lift his hips up against Dusty’s. He is excited at the prospect to come. There is nothing quite as satisfying as humiliating a sibling. And Ubbe has asked for it directly. 

His brother sits in the single chair in the room. 

It is the only black in an otherwise red room. The leather padding with chrome edges reflect off the chandelier overhead and the red neon lights on the floor. It casts a glow around Ubbe’s head as he leans against the headrest. 

The chair is designed to make their VIP guests feel special when they book the overly priced semi-private room. Set apart from the rest, it draws the eye. 

“A seat for a king,” Ivar had smiled when the chairs were delivered in the months after they had bought the building that would later become The Valkyrie. Ivar had designed one for all the private rooms, each more grand than the last. 

Ubbe looks like a king. 

Observing his subjects. 

And Hvitserk has always enjoyed putting on a show. 

Licking his lips Hvitserk leans forward to ask, “and now?” His voice comes out a rough scratch, he wants to instead tell her that he is going to touch her. His fingers dance across his pant leg. 

“Yes,” Dusty purrs. Hvitserk’s hands latch onto her sides. His fingers are icy cold against Dusty’s warm exercised body and a yelp of surprise bursts out her mouth. She tries to keep out of his touch but he holds her, pulling her back into his lap. 

She giggles, trying to catch her breath. 

“Do you tell him what to do?” Hvitserk's voice is low in Dusty’s ear. He motions to Ubbe with a nod of his head. “Or is it the other way around?” He asks, tickling her sides and she wiggles in his lap. 

“Depends,” Dusty breathlessly answers. Her gaze is trapped on Ubbe as she rolls her hips against Hvitserk. “Depends on the day. What mood I’m in.” She leans her back against his chest, reaching her arm around his head to thread her fingers through the knot that makes up Hvitserk’s hair. “Whatever mood he’s in.” She nods her head towards Ubbe while still tugging at Hvitserk’s hair. 

“What mood are you in?” she asks the question innocently, the hitch in her voice like that of when she talks to her customers. Asking them what they want as if they truly have any say in the matter. 

Laughter tickles his throat. 

“To fuck you,” he answers. The laughter that was once trapped, reverberates out of his chest when Dusty shyly peaks at him, her gaze finally drawn away from Ubbe. She is surprised to hear him speak this way. She only knows him as Ubbe’s faithful dog and Ivar’s loyal sidekick. She has never seen him otherwise. 

Her mouth is close to his cheek as she takes him in, half impressed by his boldness, a smile curls on her painted lips. 

Hvitserk licks his lips to drown out the next round of laughter that wants to burst forth, watching as Dusty’s smile turns into a look of wonderment. 

“That’s what he wants, huh?” Hvitserk’s gaze does not falter from her mouth. He wonders what it must taste like. Does she taste of Ubbe or is she distinctly her own? Is she minty like the gum she chews vigorously during pole practice or is she spicy like the perfume she spritz before her performance? 

“ - for me to fuck you,” he confirms with a nod of his head. He drags his gaze away from her plump lips to her eyes, seeking that confirmation before he begins. 

She nods her head. “Yeah.” Her voice is a whisper even in the quiet room. 

“Say it.” 

“I want you to fuck me, Hvitserk.” 

“There it is.” He leans back as he laughs heartily and then lurches forward, pressing his lips against hers because he can’t go without knowing what she tastes like. 

She is a cool mint with a hint of fruit, leftover from the lipgloss she had applied that evening. She is nothing like his girl, Honey B, who is all sweet and sugary. 

Honey is somewhere in The Valkyrie giving lap dances to a bachelor party in one of the exclusive VIP rooms. Hvitserk doesn’t like to know the exact room she is performing in, especially when she has been specifically requested. He would rather be ignorant, satisfied with the idea that Ivar can check the cameras in the room at any moment making certain she is safe. 

Hvitserk has to be okay with her dancing naked for these strangers. It would be hypocritical if he was not. 

He understands why Ubbe wants this, to sit back and watch as Dusty calls out Hvitserk’s name as he’s balls deep inside of her. It’s a little piece of control in an otherwise uncontrollable world. 

Hvitserk sighs, satisfied with the taste of her then nuzzles against her cheek and says quietly, “now take off that stupid fucking outfit and bend over for me.” 

Dusty’s fingers freeze, wedged between the ties in his hair. “But I-”

Hvitserk nudges her to stand with his own hips. He’s done playing by Dusty’s rules. He’s ready to do what he promised. “You’ll be screaming my name by the time I’m done with you,” he says knowingly. 

Dusty sways on her heels, dumbfounded for a moment, as if she can’t believe she is going through with it. She glances over at Ubbe. One last chance before they all cross a line they cannot undo. 

Ubbe is as still as a rock on his throne, legs spread out wide, arms resting on the sides of the chair, glass tumblr full of iced down whiskey tilts back and forth as he assesses them. His gaze darts across Dusty then to Hvitserk and back again to her. His brow arches, leaving the answer in Dusty’s hands. She can walk away but it is now or never. 

She glances at Hvitserk, nods her head, then her hands find the clasp of her bra. 

There are too many hooks and ties of her bodysuit for Hvitserk to keep track but she somehow manages to gracefully strip naked. 

She looks back at him when she is done undressing. She is almost as tall as him in her heels but he wants to see what she looks like bent over and he nods towards the stage. 

Go on. 

Gracefully she climbs the stairs, unperturbed by the fact that she is the only naked person in the room. She is unlike Honey B who Hvitserk is certain had never been nude, even in the privacy of her own home, except for the few moments when she was changing clothes or getting out of the shower, before she came to The Valkyrie. 

Hvitserk tugs on the slacks of his pants wondering if Honey will ever bend over nicely for him like that. Dusty’s ass is presented to him in the most delicious manner, his hand itches to smack it, to turn it a bright red. Dusty is all curves and thick muscle while Honey is petite and small and Hvitserk’s mouth twitches at the idea of both girls in bed with him. 

His hand soothes across the expanse of Dusty’s back, taking his time to knead her fleshy hips and then no longer able to help himself, smacks her ass. The hiss of pain out of her lips is enough to make it worth the sharp glare she sends over her shoulder. 

He hides the smile of delight behind the back of his hand but Dusty knows better, she has seen his mocking smirk enough to be able to see the signs in the way his eyes brighten or how his cheeks redden. He cannot hide himself from her or Ubbe who shifts in his seat across from him. 

Ubbe treads the line of wanting to protect Dusty and to allow her to set her own boundaries. The glass of whiskey in Ubbe’s hand swirls the ball of ice inside and then his mouth twitches slightly when Dusty stretches out long like a cat, anticipating what she will try to do to Hvitserk.

She wants to play a game with Hvitserk, one both Ubbe and Hvitserk have witnessed enough. The one where she tries to coax the customers into booking a private room with her or throw her an extra note just for being. It works most of the time. She is soft and submissive, letting them think it is their idea, that paying more for a room is to their advantage. That, maybe, they might get a chance to mold Dusty to their liking. But it’s never their idea though they fall for it time and time again. She will always hold the power. Stringing them along as she dances her dance. 

Hvitserk hooks his arm under Dusty’s waist, hoisting her back to her previous position, pulling her hips higher in the air. “No,” he corrects her with another slap on her ass. “You’ll stay.” 

He ignores her hiss pain, his hand traveling between her legs to palm the lips of her vulva. She is wet and sticky. “You like that, huh?” he asks but doesn’t wait to hear her reply, his teeth sinking into her fleshy bottom. “Need someone to tell you what to do.” He pushes a single digit inside her and she sighs in satisfaction. 

“Say it,” he mumbles, lips brushing the flesh above her hip while his thumb circles the outer edges of her clit, not quite touching her where she wants. 

“Yes,” she breathes out, head cradling in her arms as if she is too afraid to look up to say it but Hvitserk knows Dusty is rarely afraid. “I need you to tell me what to do.” 

Hvitserk hums, swallowing the smile that wants to spread across his mouth. “Do better.” 

There is a beat of silence as Dusty contemplates her answer. 

“Please,” she whimpers. “Hvitserk.” 

A self satisfied grin graces Hvitserk’s lips and he glances at Ubbe to make certain his brother has heard his girl beg for him. To add insult to injury Hvitserk’s playful thumb swirls against Dusty’s clit causing her to moan. Hvitserk catches Ubbe’s half concealed roll of his eyes before moving on to paying closer attention to Dusty.  

His mouth replaces his fingers and he finds that she is delightfully delicious. She shutters under his tongue and he has to grab a hold of her hips to keep her steady. Once he has her where he wants her his thumb finds her clit and her moans get louder.

Dusty sings a sputtering moan that causes Hvitserk’s mouth to curl around the lips of her pussy. His hand, that had once held her in place, moves to find her breast. 

“Hvitserk,” Dusty cries out when his tongue prods deeper inside of her while simultaneously smoothing his thumb over her clit. “Gods, don’t stop.” 

Dusty’s chest is heaving as he caresses her breast, tugging on her nipple. He loves the way she is tightening up, but he wants to be balls deep inside of her when she comes so that he can see the look on Ubbe’s face when she unravels under his touch. He takes one last long lick of her pussy. 

“Honey,” Ubbe’s voice is gruff as he calls out the name. Dusty’s heaving breath all but stops, her head snaps up to look at Ubbe.

Hvitserk is almost uncertain if he has heard his brother correctly. Slowly Hvitserk untangles himself from Dusty’s body. 

Honey B is frozen between the velvet curtains. She is dwarfed by their immaculate size, looking like a slutty pop star with her knee high latex platforms and teeny tiny skirt that does nothing to hide her ass. Her glittery makeup and high set ponytail all point towards the hand of her friend, Dusty, who helped her get ready that evening. 

“Oh fuck,” Dusty exclaims sitting back on her heels so fast that she knocks her head again Hvitserk’s chin. “Fuck,” she cries out again, this time caressing the back of her head. 

“Are you okay?” Hvitserk is quick to ask, hand hovering over Dusty’s as if some kind of combined power will heal her quicker. 

The sound of Honey’s heels clacking against the painted cement floor brings Hvitserk back to the present as he watches Honey disappear back to the main hall. 

“Ubbe.” Hvitserk gestures uselessly to Dusty who is still cradling her head as he scrambles to his feet. He does not have time to care for Dusty. He’s got to stop Honey before she leaves The Valkyrie. Or worse yet, leaves him. 

There are men calling out Honey’s name. Now that she is a household face in the establishment she is a popular request among the regulars who frequent The Valkyrie. She dodges their advances with ease; she is small enough to duck around the crowds that get in her way. 

Hvitserk is not as lucky. His large frame keeps him from advancing on Honey. He just needs to talk to her. Look her in the eyes and explain exactly what she had just seen. Surely she’ll understand. 

My brother wanted me to fuck his girlfriend. It’s a kink for him. You see? It means nothing. 

Honey heads for the front entrance. No jacket, no bag, just her skimpy little outfit to take her anywhere but the club. She has no car, Hvitserk drove her to work that day and this late at night the bus only comes around every half an hour. She clearly does not have a plan for escape. He is worried that once she steps out of that door he will never see her again. 

He can’t let that happen. 

He won’t.

Jamming the radio back into his ear he presses the button clipped to his belt. “Don’t let her out,” he practically shouts, not waiting to see if anyone else is on the line already. He repeats himself a few more times. “Don’t let Honey leave.” 

He waits a few bated breaths before one of the bouncers replies, “she’s here.” 

“What the fuck is going on Hvitserk?” Ivar’s demands over the radio, his voice a loud screech in his ear. 

“What do you want me to do with her?” asks the head bouncer. Hvitserk can imagine him towering over Honey’s short frame while he waits for further instruction. 

“Take her to the back office,” Hvitserk manages to reply between Ivar’s bursts of contempt. 

“I don’t know if she’ll go peacefully,” the bouncer replies. Hvitserk can now see the top of Honey’s head. There is a crowd gathering, also blocked from leaving. One of the bouncers nudges her shoulder, whispering in her ear. 

She walks with the bouncer for a few steps, resigned to her fate before she bursts forward, running past Hvitserk. She does not see him in her panic and he is able to catch her by her belly, scooping her up so that he can throw her over his shoulder. 

“Let me down, you oaf!” she screams, pounding his back in a vain attempt to hurt him. 

“We can touch the girls now?” One patron asks in glee. 

Ivar has somehow found Hvitserk in the chaos and snarls at the patron, “no.” Then nods his head to his personal guard motioned to throw the idiot out. 

Hvitserk marches on to the back office, simultaneously ignoring Ivar’s demands for an explanation and Honey’s pounding fists on his back. 

As gracefully as he can, Hvitserk drops Honey on Ubbe’s desk, it is practically void of any clutter unlike his own that is just a collection of junk mail and leftover wrappers from lunch, then turns back to address Ivar who is waiting on the other side of the door. 

“What fuck is this?” Ivar snarls, pointing to the closed door. Honey is probably banging on the other side but the room is soundproof so the only one who can hear her is herself. 

“I’m dealing with it,” Hvitserk gruffly replies. He does not have the head space to explain the situation twice. “We had a disagreement.” 

Dusty’s voice echoes down the hallway. “Did you find her?” 

Ivar snarls openly at being ignored and turns to Dusty to yell. “You’re supposed to be on the floor.” He is leaning heavily on his cane as he points an accusatory finger in her direction. 

Ubbe rounds the corner, long legs keeping stride with Dusty’s slow jog. 

“What are you going to say to her?” Ubbe asks when he is near enough not to be troubled with shouting. 

“I’ll ask again,” Ivar stresses slowly between clenched teeth. “What the hell happened?” 

The three of them turn to look at Ivar each with their unique expression of guilt dripping off their features. 

Ivar sighs, running a hand along the length of his face. “I don’t think I want to know any longer.” 

“I’ll talk to her,” Ubbe announces once Ivar is out of view. 

“No,” Hvitserk shakes his head. “It needs to come from me.” 

“I think Ubbe is right,” Dusty says, resting a hand on Hvitserk’s shoulder. He glances at the offending appendage as if it is burning him but Dusty is unperturbed by his looks of grief. Hvitserk would vow to never speak to Dusty again if that would appease Honey but he knows likely that will not solve the problem. 

“Fine,” Hvitserk says with a bowed head stepping aside to let Ubbe through the door.

*****

It feels like hours since Ubbe had closed the door on Hvitserk’s face, the club had to be closing soon. It was long enough that he’d broken out in a cold sweat pacing the halls, waiting for Honey to exit the room. 

She looks pissed when she finally comes out. Hvitserk has never seen this side of her. Eyes dark in the dimly lit hall they slice across him like knives twisting in his chest and belly. 

“Honey,” he breathes out, reaching for her. 

“No.” She shakes her head, sliding away from his outstretched hand. “You don’t get to touch me.” 

Hvitserk teeth grind together as he grimaces, glaring in his brother’s direction, who stands near the office door, unmoving, like a statue carved frozen for centuries to come. Ubbe hardly seems to care that this is all his fault. 

“And you don’t get to be mad at him either,” Honey says, pointing in Ubbe’s direction. “You had just as much choice in this as him.” 

Hvitserk scrubs at his face, trying to untangle his mouth. If only he could find the words to explain his reasoning then she would understand. 

“I’m pissed,” Honey says, crossing her arms across her chest, brown eyes never leaving his face. A smile tickles Hvitserk’s mouth as he looks down at her, small and mighty, trying not to let the pride swell in his chest. Since starting to work at the strip club her confidence has grown tenfold. He has watched each day grow a little wider until it now stands before him unmovable. When he first met her she could hardly look him in the eyes. He turns his neck, looking at his feet instead, so that he does not accidently smile stupidly in her face. 

“I need space,” she declares, pulling Hvitserk back to reality. He nods his head vigorously, letting her know he is listening, his fingers tightening into fists at his sides, trying to keep himself from reaching out and pulling her into a hug. “I don’t forgive you but," she sighs heavily through her nose. "I’m trying to understand.” 

Hvitserk winces at her statement. He hates it when she’s mad at him. His fingers twitch at his side he wants to touch her so badly.

“Space,” she commands and Hvitserk nods his head, resigning not to touch her until she forgives him. 

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Lokabrenna

(1-?)

Short story # 16

✨Fandom(s) - Vikings & The Last Kingdom

💍Pairing - Osferth X Reader

🕯Summary - After many years, you and your brothers are reunited with your father, King Ragnar. Along side him are two men you've never met. And when met face to face with your father, you unleash your rage of being abandoned.

⚠️Warning(s) - Talk of mutilation, near death experience, abandonment, and that's about it I think.

📝Note(s) - Okay so I randomly started brewing this story in my head. I've watched all but like the last season of Vikings, and this story will have little to do with the storyline up until the point Ragnar comes back. Now I've never watched The Last Kingdom, I want to start watching it soon, but as I am writing this piece I haven't watched any. So this crossover will be interesting to say the least. Oh and I apologize but I am writing this with the idea that the reader is about 6'7", and in time I'll explain why in later notes. But for the most part this won't be mentioned, but it will pop up every so often. Reader is also described to have emerald green eyes, dark hair the first two things being things from her mother, and scars she obtained as a girl. Other than that the readers image is up to you. So the read is kinda like an OC but with your name, and the majority of your image. Oh and in this story the Norse Gods are real, and several will be involved in this story. But some things to do with the Gods isn't actually a part of Norse mythology, I'm just bending some of it to work best with the story. (Thank you for taking the time to read the notes if you have.)

🗝Key information - Lokabrenna meaning Loki's Torch in this story. (Eventually it will make perfect sense.)

🌬Year posted - 2022

📖Reading time roughly - Ten minutes.

🙈Rating - SFW/NSFW

◈ Part 1.) | Part 2.) |

🎧Playlist to listen to while reading.↓↓↓

Sparing with Björn was something (Y/n) indulged with most days, as he was the only one of her brothers willing to spar with her, and the only one that would push her to better her skills. Though her twin, Ivar would likely spar with her and push her to be the best, his legs prevented him from being able to do as much as Björn could. The others watched their eldest brother fought with their little sister, who wasn't quite so little, as she stood roughly four inches above Björn. Ubbe chuckled when (Y/n) slammed her shield into Björns, making the blond stumble back several inches. "You can do better than that." (Y/n) taunted her brother, blocking his sword and countering swiftly, her blade resting beside his neck. "Honestly I'm beginning to think you are getting old brother." She teased, making the others snicker on the sidelines. Björn scoffed with a grin, breaking away from her and beginning the fight again.

"King Ragnar has returned." A voice called out, the words making (Y/n)'s stance falter, giving Björn the opportunity to trip her, making her land face first into the dirt. "Shit." Björn muttered under his breath, realizing his mistake, he tossed his shield and sword aside. The others approaching as she rolled onto her back, looking to the blue sky with glossy emerald eyes. "I didn't mean to-" She cut Björn off. "It isn't that." She closed her eyes for a moment, only opening them again when Ivar brushed her hair away from her eyes. "He doesn't know she is alive." Ivar reminded their brothers in a soft tone, making the eldest sigh with realization. Björn offered his hand to (Y/n), pulling her to her feet when she accepted his offer. "Well then, he will be surprised hm." The blond patted her shoulder affectionately, smiling when she chuckled at that. "Come on then, let's go see the old man." She dusted herself off then followed behind her brother's, keeping pace with Ivar as she always would.

The growing crowd parted for the arrival of the Princes and Princess, allowing Ragnar to see his children for the first time in many years. The shock apparent when his eyes laid on (Y/n), who stood tall beside her brother's, trying to suppress her emotions. "(Y/n)." Ragnar breathed out her name, tears welling in his eyes at the sight of his only surviving daughter. Ragnar approached her with slow steps, as if he was afraid she would vanish if he approached to quickly. "Little (Y/n)." He smiled taking in the sight of her. "Not so little any more." He remarked with a grin, his eyes casting to her left where Ivar sat, his pointer finger curled around (Y/n)'s, something they had done since birth for comfort. "Hello Ivar." Ragnar smiled down at his youngest son, and for a moment Ivar mirrored his smile, until (Y/n) suddenly shoved Ragnar away. The crowd grew deathly silent, watching the scene unfold before them.

"You left me." She hissed lowly, looming over her father. "I didn't-." Ragnar tried, but she stalked forward, putting her face into his. "You left me for dead." (Y/n) growled quietly, fire practically glowing within her emerald orbs. "I thought you had died." He argued. "I called out to you, I screamed so you would hear me. And yet you left me to burn in that dragons fire." Her gaze cast to the two strange men accompanying the King. "Let me guess, this is the boy you took in after you abandoned me?" She accused, Ragnar's eyes shimmering with shame. "You left all of us, but you would raise this stranger as if he were your own." She scoffed. "You think we did not know? That we didn't keep an eye on you? That we wouldn't hear about the young warrior claiming to be another son of King Ragnar?" She straightened her back, looming over her father once more. "You are no King, and you are no father, you are just an old man wallowing in self pity." She hissed before turning her back on him.

"I am your father, and I am your King!" Ragnar yelled, his anger only fueling (Y/n)'s rage. She quickly spun on her heel, and Björn tried catching her arm as she moved to swing. He failed in holding her back, instead he only pulled two of her rings off before her fist collided with Ragnar's jaw, the warn man fell to one knee, blood oozing from his lip. "You stopped being my father when you left me for dead, and you are a worthless King that even the Gods do not recognize." Her voice boomed over the crowd, and as quickly as she had said that, she stormed off. Shoving her way through the crowd, unaware of her brother's following her. Björn crouched down to pick up (Y/n)'s rings, which had fallen to the ground. While Uhtred and Osferth helped Ragnar to his feet, despite the old King's demands to be left alone. "You are not the man I once knew." Björn commented as he rose to his feet, looking his father in the eyes. "Like (Y/n)... I cannot forgive you for what you did to her." He added before walking away, intent on joining his siblings again.

(Y/n) began her trek into the woods, her sword secured to her hip, and her large grey cloak fastened around her shoulders. "Princess wait a moment." Uhtred called out as he and Osferth jogged after her into the woods. "Why should I even speak to you?" She glowered at the man, who looked almost sheepish before her. "I'm sorry." He offered, which only confused her. "Why are you sorry?" She questioned. "Because of your father." He explained. "I am not angry at my father for raising you... I am angry that he so easily abandoned me and my brothers. And yet instead of coming home, with or without you, he stayed out there and pretended as if he wasn't a King, as if he didn't have his own children to care for." She turned away and began walking again, only for the men to follow her. "You said he left you for dead? I had assumed he left you here with your brothers." He spoke up again, his words causing her to stop again. "My father took me with him when he ran away from Kattegat, I was to young to understand what was happening." She pulled her hood down, properly observing the two.

"I was with him for two years, we lived in a cabin far from here. One evening while he was out hunting a dragon descended upon the cabin. It set the cabin on fire while I was trapped inside, I cried out for my father to save me, but he never came. The dragon had left as quickly as it came, and I was left alone to burn alive." The smaller of the two grimaced at her words. "I found myself trapped in the best place however, as the smoke could not reach me. When part of the wall finally crumbled to the ground, I crawled as best I could out of the cabin. I was weak, and burnt badly. The sky was dark by this point, and my father nowhere in sight." She licked her lips before continuing. "I did the only thing I could think to do, I wept for the Gods. Praying that one of them would hear me, and offer me aid. The wolf God Fenrir heard me, and sent his sons Hati and Sköll to aid me. They found me and used what little magic they could to mend my wounds, which did very little, but it kept me alive long enough for them to bring me home."

She pulled to cord of her cloak, allowing it to fall to the ground. "They ran for seven days and eight nights with me atop Hati until they reached Kattegat. They broke into my families long house, with me on the brink of death, and the moment my mother laid eyes on me she knew what had happened. For she dreamt about it the very same night it happened. She sent for healers from far and wide, and with their help I was nurtured back to health. I bare the scars of my father's negligence, and can never forgive him for it." She turned her back to the men, and quickly swept her shirt up to show them, the mass amount of burnt skin stretched across the expanse of her back. "Gods." Uhtred muttered under his breath, the both of them stunned by the sheer amount of tattered skin, each wondering how she could survive such a thing. The sound of a branch snapping caught their attention, and just as her brothers walked into view (Y/n) dropped her shirt, now facing her brother's.

"You are going to see him aren't you? To pay tribute?" Ubbe asked as she picked up her cloak. "I am." She nodded her head in agreement. "We're coming with you." Björn stated. "Why?" She wondered. "We wish to give thanks to the ones who saved you." Ivar cut in, moving around Ubbe to sit at her feet. "Hvitserk, Sigurd, why are you coming? Neither of you have ever seemed to care much about me." She tilted her head, her words making Hvitserk scoff. "You are still our sister." Sigurd argued. "We care more deeply than you think." Hvitserk added. "Okay... You can all come with me." She smiled at her brother's, her gaze casting to Uhtred and Osferth when Uhtred cleared his throat. "Who are you going to see?" He questioned. "Fenrir wolf." Her words stunned them both for a moment. "We shall come as well." Uhtred insisted. "And why is that?" (Y/n) questioned. "I feel that we must." He vaguely explained, making (Y/n) arch a brow at him.

"If that is what you wish, then so be it." She turned her attention then to Ivar. "I shall carry you Ivar, this is a long journey, and I do not wish for you to suffer." She knelt before him. "So you shall suffer instead?" Ivar argued stubbornly. "I will happily suffer for you dear brother." She assured him, before playfully bumping her forehead against his. Only turning her back to him when he grinned at her, and effortlessly she hoisted her twin onto her back, and rose to her feet. "We will not be back until tomorrow evening." She warned them, half expecting Uhtred and Osferth to turn back. A faint grin ghosting her lips when they continued to follow her lead deeper into the woods. "I didn't expect Fenrir to be so close to Kattegat." Uhtred remarked. "He isn't. But one of the passageways to him is." (Y/n) explained, the entire encounter leaving Osferth confused in his silence, though he continued to follow his friend regardless of his doubts.

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◈ Part 1.) | Part 2.) |

⚜ Leave a comment and let me know what you think, and if you'd like to be tagged in future parts of this story. - Jaded Monkey🐒